Comedies    of   Courtship 
By  Anthony  Hopevwvv. 


The  Wheel  of  Love.    The  Lady  of  the  Pool. 

The  Curate  of  Poltons.     A  Three-Volume  Novel. 

The  Philosopher  in  the  Apple  Orchard. 

The  Decree  of  Duke  Deodonato 


"  It  is  a  familiar  fact  that  the  intensity  of  a  passion  varies 
with  the  proximity  of  the  appropriate  object." 

—Mr.  Leslie  Stephen,  "  Science  of  Ethics" 

11  How  the  devil  is  it  that  fresh  features 
Have  such  a  charm  for  us  poor  human  creatures?  " 

—LORD  BYRON,   "Don  Juan" 


Charles  Scribner's  Sons 
New  York  rrrrrr  1906 


Copyright,  1895,  by 
Charles  Scribners  Sons 


Copyright,  1894,  1896,  by 
Anthony  Hope 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK 


NOTE 

"  The  Wheel  of  Love,"  published  in  Scrib- 
ner's  Magazine  during  the  past  year,  and  "The 
Lady  of  the  Pool,"  both  protected  by  Ameri- 
can copyright,  are  here  printed  for  the  first 
time  in  book  form.  The  four  other  stories 
appeared  without  their  author's  consent  or 
knowledge,  with  their  titles  changed  beyond 
recognition,  and  combined  with  other  unau- 
thorized material,  in  a  small  volume  printed 
by  an  American  firm.  They  are  here  given 
for  the  first  time  in  their  proper  form  and 

by  my  authority. 

Anthony  Hope. 


CONTENTS 

Page 

The  Wheel  of  Love / 

The  Lady  of  the  Pool    .    .    .    .    75/ 

The  Curate  of  Poltons  ....   279 

A  Three-Volume  Novel .     .    .     -313 

The   Philosopher   in    the   Apple 
Orchard 337 

The  Decree  of  Duke  Deodonato  .   ^57 


THE  WHEEL  OF   LOVE 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE 

CHAPTEK  I 

THE  VIRTUOUS  HYPOCRITES 

AT  first  sight  they  had  as  little  reason 
for  being  unhappy  as  it  is  possible  to 
have  in  a  world  half  full  of  sorrow.  They 
were  young-  and  healthy  ;  half  a  dozen  times 
they  had  each  declared  the  other  more  than 
common  good-looking* ;  they  both  had,  and 
never  knew  what  it  was  not  to  have,  money 
enough  for  comfort  and,  in  addition  that 
divine  little  superfluity  wherefrom  joys  are 
born.  The  house  was  good  to  look  at  and 
good  to  live  in ;  there  were  horses  to  ride, 
the  river  to  go  a-rowing  on,  and  a  big  box 
from  Mudie's  every  week.  No  one  worried 
them  ;  Miss  Bussey  was  generally  visiting 
the  poor ;  or,  as  was  the  case  at  this  mo- 
ment, asleep  in  her  arm-chair,  with  Paul, 
the  terrier,  in  his  basket  beside  her,  and  the 


4  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

cat  on  her  lap.  Lastly,  they  were  plighted 
lovers,  and  John  was  staying-  with  Miss 
Bussey  for  the  express  purpose  of  delight- 
ing- and  being  delighted  by  his  fiancee,  Mary 
Travers.  For  these  and  all  their  mercies 
certainly  they  should  have  been  truly  thank- 
ful. 

However  the  heart  of  man  is  wicked. 
This  fact  alone  can  explain  why  Mary  sat 
sadly  in  the  drawing-room,  feeling  a  letter 
that  was  tucked  inside  her  waistband  and 
John  strode  moodily  up  and  down  the 
gravel  walk,  a  cigar,  badly  bitten,  between 
his  teeth,  and  his  hand  ever  and  again 
covertly  stealing  toward  his  breast-pocket 
and  pressing  a  scented  note  that  lay  there. 
In  the  course  of  every  turn  John  would  pass 
the  window  of  the  drawing  -  room  ;  then 
Mary  would  look  up  with  a  smile  and  blow 
him  a  kiss,  and  he  nodded  and  laughed 
and  returned  the  salute.  But,  the  window 
passed,  both  sighed  deeply  and  returned  to 
fingering  those  hidden  missives. 

"  Poor  little  girl !  I  must  keep  it  up," 
said  John. 

"Dear  good  John!  He  must  never 
know,"  thought  Mary. 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  5 

And  the  two  fell  to  thinking  just  what 
was  remarked  a  few  lines  back,  namely,  that 
the  human  heart  is  very  wicked  ;  they  were 
shocked  at  themselves ;  the  young  often 
are. 

Miss  Bussey  awoke,  sat  up,  evicted  the 
cat,  and  found  her  spectacles. 

"  Where  are  those  children  ? "  said  she. 
"  Billing  and  cooing  somewhere,  I  suppose. 
Bless  me,  why  don't  they  get  tired  of  it  ?  " 

They  had — not  indeed  of  billing  and  coo- 
ing in  general,  for  no  one  at  their  age  does 
or  ought  to  get  tired  of  that — but  of  billing 
and  cooing  with  one  another. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  situation 
promised  well  for  a  tragedy.  Nevertheless 
this  is  not  the  story  of  an  unhappy  mar- 
riage. 

If  there  be  one  thing  which  Government 
should  forbid,  it  is  a  secret  engagement. 
Engagements  should  be  advertised  as  mar- 
riages are  ;  but  unless  we  happen  to  be  per- 
sons of  social  importance,  or  considerable 
notoriety,  no  such  precautions  are  taken. 
Of  course  there  are  engagement  rings ;  but 
a  man  never  knows  one  when  he  sees  it  on 
a  lady's  hand — it  would  indeed  be  imperti- 


6  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

nent  to  look  too  closely — and  when  he  goes 
out  alone  he  generally'  puts  his  in  his 
pocket,  considering  that  the  evening  will 
thus  be  rendered  more  enjoyable.  The 
Ashforth-Travers  engagement  was  not  a 
secret  now,  but  it  had  been,  and  had  been 
too  long.  Hence,  when  Mary  went  to  Scot- 
land and  met  Charlie  Ellerton,  and  when 
John  went  to  Switzerland  and  met  Dora 
Bellairs— the  truth  is,  they  ought  never  to 
have  separated,  and  Miss  Bussey  (who  was 
one  of  the  people  in  the  secret)  had  been 
quite  right  when  she  remarked  ttyat  it 
seemed  a  curious  arrangement.  John  and 
Mary  had  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  a  few  weeks' 
absence  having  any  effect  on  their  feelings 
except,  if  indeed  it  were  possible,  that  of 
intensifying  them. 

"I  really  think  I  ought  to  go  and  find 
them,"  said  Miss  Bussey.     "  Come,  Paul !  " 

She  took  a  parasol,  for  the  April  sun  was 
bright,  and  went  into  the  garden.  When 
she  came  to  the  drawing-room  window  John 
was  away  at  the  end  of  the  walk.  She 
looked  at  him :  he  was  reading  a  letter. 
She  looked  in  at  the  window :  Mary  was 
reading-  a  letter. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  7 

"  Well ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Bussey.  "  Have 
they  had  a  tiff  ?  "  And  she  slowly  waddled 
(truth  imposes  this  word — she  was  very 
stout)  toward  the  unconscious  John.  He 
advanced  toward  her  still  reading  ;  not  only 
did  he  not  see  her,  but  he  failed  to  notice 
that  Paul  had  got  under  his  feet.  He  fell 
over  Paul,  and  as  he  stumbled  the  let- 
ter fluttered  out  of  his  hand.  Paul  seized 
it  and  began  to  toss  it  about  in  great 
glee. 

"  Good  doggie !  "  cried  Miss  Bussey. 
"  Come  then !  Bring  it  to  me,  dear.  Good 
Paul ! " 

John's  face  was  distorted  with  agony. 
He  darted  toward  Paul,  fell  on  him,  and 
gripped  him  closely.  Paul  yelped  and 
Miss  Bussey  observed,  in  an  indignant  tone, 
that  John  need  not  throttle  the  dog.  John 
muttered  something. 

"  Is  the  letter  so  very  precious  ?  "  asked 
his  hostess  ironically. 

"  Precious ! "  cried  John.  "  Yes ! — No  ! — 
It's  nothing  at  all." 

But  he  opened  Paul's  mouth  and  took  out 
his  treasure  with  wonderful  care. 

"And  why,"  inquired  Miss  Bussey,  "are 


8  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

you  not  with  Mary,  young  man?  You're 
very  neglectful." 

"  Neglectful !  Surely,  Miss  Bussey,  you 
haven't  noticed  anything  like  neglect  ? 
Don't  say •" 

"  Bless  the  boy  !  I  was  only  joking. 
You're  a  model  lover." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you.  I'll  go  to  her 
at  once,"  and  he  sped  towards  the  window, 
opened  it  and  walked  up  to  Mary.  Miss 
Bussey  followed  him  and  arrived  just  in 
time  to  see  the  lovers  locked  in  one  anoth- 
er's arms,  their  faces  expressing  all  appro- 
priate rapture. 

"  There's  nothing  much  wrong,"  said  Miss 
Bussey ;  wherein  Miss  Bussey  herself  was 
much  wrong. 

"  What  a  shame !  I've  left  you  alone  for 
more  than  an  hour ! "  said  John.  "  Have  you 
been  very  unhappy  ?  "  and  he  added,  "  dar- 
ling."    It  sounded  like  an  afterthought. 

"  I  have  been  rather  unhappy,"  answered 
Mary,  and  her  answer  was  true.  As  she 
said  it  she  tucked  in  a  projecting  edge  of 
her  letter.  John  had  hurriedly  slipped  his 
(it  was  rather  the  worse  for  its  mauling)  into 
his  trousers-pocket. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  9 

"  You — you  didn't  think  me  neglectful  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no." 

"  I  was  thinking1  of  you  all  the  time." 

"And  I  was  thinking-  of  you,  dear." 

"  Are  you  very  happy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  John  ;  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  am.  Happy !  I  should  think 
so,"  and  he  kissed  her  with  unimpeachable 
fervor. 

When  a  conscientious  person  makes  up 
his  mind  that  he  ought,  for  good  reasons,  to 
deceive  somebody,  there  is  no  one  like  him 
for  thorough-paced  hypocrisy.  "When  two 
conscientious  people  resolve  to  deceive  one 
another,  on  grounds  of  duty,  the  acme  of 
duplicity  is  in  a  fair  way  to  be  reached. 
John  Ashforth  and  Mary  Travers  illustrated 
this  proposition.  The  former  had  been  all 
his  life  a  good  son,  and  was  now  a  trust- 
worthy partner,  to  his  father,  who  justly  re- 
lied no  less  on  his  character  than  on  his 
brains.  The  latter,  since  her  parents'  early 
death  had  left  her  to  her  aunt's  care,  had 
been  the  comfort  and  prop  of  Miss  Bussey's 
life.  It  is  difficult  to  describe  good  people 
without  making  them  seem  dull ;  but  luck- 
ily nature  is  defter  than  novelists,  and  it  is 


10  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

quite  possible  to  be  good  without  being 
dull.  Neither  Mary  nor  John  was  dull ;  a 
trifle  limited,  perhaps,  they  were,  a  thought 
severe  in  their  judgments  of  others  as  well 
as  of  themselves  ;  a  little  exacting  with 
their  friends  and  more  than  a  little  with 
themselves.  One  description  paints  them 
both  ;  doubtless  their  harmony  of  mind  had 
contributed  more  than  Mary's  sweet  expres- 
sion and  finely  cut  features,  or  John's  up- 
standing six  feet,  and  honest  capable  face, 
to  produce  that  attachment  between  them 
which  had,  six  months  before  this  story 
begins,  culminated  in  their  engagement. 
Once  arrived  at,  this  ending  seemed  to  have 
been  inevitable.  Everybody  discovered  that 
they  had  foretold  it  from  the  first,  and  mod- 
estly disclaimed  any  credit  for  anticipating 
a  union  between  a  couple  so  obviously  made 
for  one  another. 

The  distress  into  which  lovers  such  as 
these  fell  when  they  discovered  by  personal 
experience  that  sincerely  to  vow  eternal 
love  is  one  thing,  and  sincerely  to  give  it 
quite  another,  may  be  well  imagined,  and 
may  well  be  left  to  be  imagined.  They  both 
went  through  a  terrible  period  of  tempta- 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  11 

tion,  wherein  they  listened  longingly  to  the 
seductive  pleading  of  their  hearts  ;  but  both 
emerged  triumphant,  resolved  to  stifle  their 
mad  fancy,  to  prefer  good  faith  to  mere  in- 
clination, and  to  avoid,  at  all  costs,  wound- 
ing one  to  whom  they  had  sworn  to  be  true. 
Thus  far  their  steadfastness  carried  them, 
but  not  beyond.  They  could  part  from  their 
loved  ones,  and  they  did  ;  but  they  could 
not  leave  them  without  a  word.  Each  wrote, 
after  leaving  Scotland  and  Switzerland  re- 
spectively, a  few  lines  of  adieu,  confessing 
the  love  they  felt,  but  with  resolute  sadness 
saying  farewell  for  ever.  They  belonged  to 
another. 

It  was  the  answers  that  Mary  and  John 
were  reading  when  Miss  Bussey  discovered 
them. 

Mary's  ran : 

"  My  Dear  Miss  Travers  :  I  have  received 
your  letter.  I  can't  tell  you  what  it  means 
to  me.  You  say  all  must  be  over  between 
us.  Don't  be  offended — but  I  won't  say  that 
yet.  It  can't  be  your  duty  to  marry  a  man 
you  don't  love.  You  forbid  me  to  write  or 
come  to  you  ;  and  you  ask  only  for  a  word 


12  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

of  good-by.     I  won't  say  good-by.     I'll  say 

An  revoir — au  revoir,  my  darling. 

"  Charlie. 
'•'  Burn  this." 

This  was  John's  : 

"  My  Dear  Mr.  Ashforth  :  What  am  I  to 
say  to  you  ?  Oh,  why,  why  didn't  you  tell  me 
before  ?  I  oughtn't  to  say  that,  but  it  is  too 
late  to  conceal  anything  from  you.  Yes,  you 
are  right.  It  must  be  good-by.  Yes,  I  will 
try  to  forget  you.  But  oh,  John,  it's  very, 
very,  very  difficult.  I  don't  know  how  to  sign 
this — so  I  won't.  You'll  know  who  it  comes 
from,  won't  you  ?     Good-by.     Burn  this." 

These  letters,  no  doubt,  make  it  plain  that 
there  had  been  at  least  a  momentary  weak- 
ness both  in  Mary  and  in  John  ;  but  in  a 
true  and  charitable  view  their  conduct  in 
rising  superior  to  temptation  finally  was  all 
the  more  remarkable  and  praiseworthy. 
They  had  indeed,  for  the  time,  been  carried 
away.  Even  now  Mary  found  it  hard  not  to 
make  allowances  for  herself,  little  as  she 
was  prone  to  weakness  when  she  thought 
of  the  impetuous  abandon  and   conquering 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  13 

whirl  with  which  Charlie  Ellerton  had 
wooed  her ;  and  John  confessed  that  flight 
alone,  a  hasty  flight  from  Interlaken  after  a 
certain  evening  spent  in  gazing  at  the 
Jungfrau,  had  saved  him  from  casting 
everything  to  the  winds  and  yielding  to 
the  slavery  of  Dora  Bellairs's  sunny  smiles 
and  charming  coquetries.  He  had  always 
thought  that  that  sort  of  girl  had  no  at- 
tractions for  him,  just  as  Mary  had  despised 
"  butterfly  -  men  "  like  Charlie  Ellerton. 
"Well,  they  were  wrong.  The  only  comfort 
was  that  shallow  natures  felt  these  sorrows 
less  ;  it  would  have  broken  Mary's  heart 
(thought  John),  or  John's  (thought  Mary), 
but  Dora  and  Charlie  would  soon  find  con- 
solation in  another.  But  here,  oddly  enough, 
John  generally  swore  heartily  and  Mary  al- 
ways began  to  search  for  her  handkerchief. 
"  They're  as  affectionate  as  one  could  wish 
when  they're  together,"  mused  Miss  Bus- 
sey,  as  she  stroked  the  cat,  "  but  at  other 
times  they're  gloomy  company.  I  suppose 
they  can't  be  happy  apart.  Dear  !  dear  !  " 
And  the  good  old  lady  fell  to  wondering 
whether  she  had  ever  been  so  foolish  her- 
self. 


CHAPTER  II 

SYMPATHY  IN  SORROW 

"  Give  me,"  observed  Sir  Roger  Deane, 
"  Cannes,  a  fine  day,  a  good  set  to  look  at, 
a  beehive  chair,  a  good  cigar,  a  cocktail  on 
one  side  and  a  nice  girl  on  the  other,  and 
there  I  am !     I  don't  want  anything  else." 

General  Bellairs  pulled  his  white  mus- 
tache and  examined  Sir  Roger's  figure  and 
surroundings  with  a  smile. 

"  Then  only  Lady  Deane  is  wanting  to 
your  complete  happiness,"  said  he. 

"  Maud  is  certainly  a  nice  girl,  but  when 
she  deserts  me " 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"I  do,"  interposed  a  young  man,  who 
wore  an  eye-glass  and  was  in  charge  of  a 
large  jug.     "  She's  gone  to  Monte." 

"I  might  have  known,"  said  Sir  Roger. 
"  Being  missed  here  always  means  you've 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  15 

gone  to  Monte — like  not  being  at  church 
means  you've  gone  to  Brighton." 

"  Surely  she  doesn't  play  ? "  asked  the 
General. 

"  Not  she !  She's  going  to  put  it  in  a 
book.  She  writes  books  you  know.  She 
put  me  in  the  last — made  me  a  dashed  fool, 
too,  by  Jove  !  " 

"  That  was  unkind,"  said  the  General, 
"from  your  wife." 

"  Oh,  Lord  love  you,  she  didn't  mean  it. 
I  was  the  hero.  That's  how  I  came  to  be 
such  an  ass.  The  dear  girl  meant  every- 
thing that  was  kind.  Who's  taken  her  to 
Monte  ?  " 

"  Charlie  Ellerton,"  said  the  young  man 
with  the  eye-glass. 

"  There !  I  told  you  she  was  a  kind  girl. 
She's  trying  to  pull  old  Charlie  up  a  peg  or 
two.  He's  had  the  deuce  of  a  facer,  you 
know." 

"  I  thought  he  seemed  less  cheerful  than 
usual." 

"  Oh,  rather.  He  met  a  girl  somewhere 
or  other — I  always  forget  places — Miss — 
Miss — hang  it,  I  can't  remember  names — 
and    got    awfully  smitten,  and  everything 


16  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

went  pleasantly  and  she  took  to  him  like 
anything,  and  at  last  old  Charlie  spoke  up 

like    a    man,  and "     Sir  Roger    paused 

dramatically. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  the  General. 

"  She  was  engaged  to  another  fellow. 
Rough,  wasn't  it  ?  She  told  old  Charlie  she 
liked  him  infernally,  but  promises  were 
promises,  don't  you  know,  and  she'd  thank 
him  to  take  his  hook.  And  he  had  to  take 
it,  by  Gad !  Rough,  don't  you  know  ?  So 
Maud's  been  cheering  him  up.    The  devil !  " 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?  "  inquired  the 
General. 

"  Why,  I've  just  remembered  that  I  prom- 
ised to  say  nothing  about  it.  I  say,  don't 
you  repeat  it,  General,  nor  you  either, 
Laing." 

The  General  laughed. 

"  Well,"  said  Sir  Roger,  "  he  oughtn't  to 
have  been  such  a  fool  as  to  tell  me.  He 
knows  I  never  remember  to  keep  things 
dark.     It's  not  my  fault." 

A  girl  came  out  of  the  hotel  and  strolled 
up  to  where  the  group  was.  She  was  dark, 
slight,  and  rather  below  middle  height ;  her 
complexion  at  this  moment  was  a  trifle  sal- 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  17 

low  and  her  eyes  listless,  but  it  seemed 
rather  as  though  she  had  dressed  her  face 
into  a  tragic  cast,  the  set  of  the  features  be- 
ing naturally  mirthful.  She  acknowledged 
the  men's  salutations  and  sat  down  with  a 
sigh. 

"  Not  on  to-day  ?  "  asked  Sir  Koger,  wav- 
ing his  cigar  toward  the  lawn-tennis  courts. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Bellairs. 

"Are  you  seedy,  Dolly?"  inquired  the 
General. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Bellairs. 

Mr.  Laing  fixed  his  eye-glass  and  sur- 
veyed the  young  lady. 

"  Are  you  taking  any  ?  "  said  he,  indicat- 
ing the  jug. 

"  I  don't  see  any  fun  in  vulgarity,"  ob- 
served Miss  Bellairs. 

The  General  smiled.  Sir  Roger's  lips  as- 
sumed the  shape  for  a  whistle. 

"  That's  a  nasty  one  for  me,"  said  Laing. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,  Roger,"  exclaimed  a 

fresh   clear  voice  from  behind  the  chairs. 

"I've  been  looking    for    you    everywhere. 

We've  seen  everything — Mr.   Ellerton   was 

most  kind — and  I  do  so  want  to  tell  you  my 

impressions." 
2 


18  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

The  new-comer  was  Lady  Deane,  a  tall 
young  woman,  plainly  dressed  in  a  servicea- 
ble cloth  walking-gown.  By  her  side  stood 
Charlie  Ellerton  in  a  flannel  suit  of  pro- 
nounced striping ;  he  wore  a  little  yellow 
mustache,  had  blue  eyes  and  curly  hair,  and 
his  face  was  tanned  a  wholesome  ruddy- 
brown.     He  looked  very  melancholy. 

"Letters  from  Hell,"  murmured  Sir 
Roger. 

"  But  I  was  so  distressed,"  continued  his 
wife.  "  Mr.  Ellerton  would  gamble,  and  he 
lost  ever  so  much  money." 

"A  fellow  must  amuse  himself,"  remarked 
Charlie  gloomily,  and  with  apparent  uncon- 
sciousness he  took  a  glass  from  Laing  and 
drained  it. 

"  Gambling  and  drink  —  what  does  that 
mean  ?  "  asked  Sir  Roger. 

"  Shut  up,  Deane,"  said  Charlie. 

Miss  Bellairs  rose  suddenly  and  walked 
away.  Her  movement  expressed  impatience 
with  her  surroundings.  After  a  moment 
Charlie  Ellerton  slowly  sauntered  after  her. 
She  sat  down  on  a  garden-seat  some  way 
off.  Charlie  placed  himself  at  the  opposite 
end.     A  long  pause  ensued. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  19 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  precious  poor  company," 
said  Charlie. 

"I  didn't  want  you  to  be  company  at  all," 
answered  Miss  Bellairs,  and  she  sloped  her 
parasol  until  it  obstructed  his  view  of  her 
face. 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry,  but  I  can't  stand  the 
sort  of  rot  Deane  and  Laing  are  talking." 

"  Can't  you  ?     Neither  can  I." 

"  The}7  never  seem  to  be  serious  about 
anything,  you  know,"  and  Charlie  sighed 
deeply,  and  for  three  minutes  there  was 
silence. 

"  Do  you  know  Scotland  at  all  ?  "  asked 
Charlie  at  last. 

"  Only  a  little." 

"  There  last  year  ?  " 

"  No,  I  was  in  Switzerland." 

"  Oh." 

"  Do  you  know  Interlaken  ?  ' 

"No." 

"  Oh." 

"  May  I  have  a  cigarette  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  if  you  like." 

Charlie  lit  his  cigarette  and  smoked  si- 
lently for  a  minute  or  two. 

"  I  call  this  a  beastly  place,"  said  he. 


20  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Yes,  horrid,"  she  answered,  and  the 
force  of  sympathy  made  her  move  the  para- 
sol and  turn  her  face  towards  her  companion. 
"  But  I  thought,"  she  continued,  "  you  came 
here  every  spring?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  place  so  much.  It's 
the  people." 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  ?     I  know  what  you  mean." 

"  You  can't  make  a  joke  of  everything,  can 

you?" 

"  Indeed  no,"  sighed  Dora. 

Charlie  looked  at  his  cigarette,  and,  his 
eyes  carefully  fixed  on  it,  said  in  a  timid 
tone  : 

"  What's  the  point,  for  instance,  of  talking 
as  if  love  was  all  bosh  ?  " 

Dora's  parasol  swept  down  again  swiftly, 
but  Charlie  was  still  looking  at  the  cigarette 
and  he  did  not  notice  its  descent,  nor  could 
he  see  that  Miss  Bellairs's  cheek  was  no 
longer  sallow. 

"  It's  such  cheap  rot,"  he  continued,  "  and 
when  a  fellow's — I  say,  Miss  Bellairs,  I'm 
not  boring  you  ?  " 

The  parasol  wavered  and  finally  moved. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Bellairs. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you — no,  I  mustn't 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  21 

say  that ;  but  I  know  what  it  is  to  be  in  love, 
Miss  Bellairs  ;  but  what's  the  good  of  talk- 
ing1 about  it  ?     Everybody  laughs." 

Miss  Bellairs  put  down  her  parasol. 

"  I  shouldn't  laugh,"  she  said  softly.  "  It's 
horrid  to  laugh  at  people  when  they're  in 
trouble,"  and  her  eyes  were  very  sympa- 
thetic. 

"You  are  kind.  I  don't  mind  talking 
about  it  to  you.  You  know  I'm  not  the  sort 
of  fellow  who  falls  in  love  with  every  girl  he 
meets ;  so  of  course  it's  worse  when  I  do." 

"  Was  it  just  lately  ?  "  murmured  Dora. 

"  Last  summer." 

"  Ah !    And— and  didn't  she ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Yes,  hang  it,  I  be- 
lieve she  did.  She  was  perfectly  straight, 
Miss  Bellairs.  I  don't  say  a  word  against 
her.  She — I  think  she  didn't  know  her  own 
feelings  until — until  I  spoke,  you  know — 
and  then " 

"  Do  go  on,  if — if  it  doesn't " 


"  Why,  then,  the  poor  girl  cried  and  said 
it  couldn't  be  because  she — she  was  en- 
gaged to  another  fellow ;  and  she  sent  me 
away." 

Miss  Bellairs  was  listening  attentively. 


22  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  And,"  continued  Charlie,  "  she  wrote  and 
said  it  must  be  good-by  and — and " 

"  And  you  think  she ?  " 

"  She  told  me  so,"  whispered  Charlie. 
"  She  said  she  couldn't  part  without  telling 
me.  Oh,  I  say,  Miss  Bellairs,  isn't  it  all 
damnable  ?     I  beg  your  pardon." 

Dora  was  tracing  little  figures  on  the 
gravel  with  her  parasol. 

"  Now  what  would  you  do  ?  "  cried  Charlie. 
"  She  loves  me,  I  know  she  does,  and  she's 
going  to  marry  this  other  fellow  because  she 
promised  him  first.  I  don't  suppose  she 
knew  what  love  was  then." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  she  didn't,"  exclaimed  Dora 
earnestly. 

"  You  can't  blame  her,  you  know.  And 
it's  absurd  to  —  to  —  to  —  not  to  —  well,  to 
marry  a  fellow  you  don't  care  for  when  you 
care  for  another  fellow,  you  know !  " 

"Yes." 

"  Of  course  you  can  hardly  imagine  your- 
self in  that  position,  but  suppose  a  man 
liked  you  and — and  was  placed  like  that,  you 
know,  what  should  you  feel  you  ought  to 
do?" 

"  Oh,    I  don't    know,"   exclaimed    Dora, 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  23 

clasping  her  hands.  "  Oh,  do  tell  me  what 
you  think  !     I'd  give  the  world  to  know !  " 

Charlie's  surprised  glance  warned  her  of 
her  betrayal.  "  You  mustn't  ask  me,"  she 
exclaimed  hastily. 

"  I  won't  ask  a  word.  I — I'm  awfully 
sorry,  Miss  Bellairs." 

"  Nobody  knows,"  she  murmured. 

"  Nobody  shall  through  me." 

"You're  not  very — ?    I'm  very  asham'ect." 

"  Why  ?  And  because  of  me  !  After  wnat 
I've  told  you  !  " 

Charlie  rose  suddenly. 

"I'm  not  going  to  stand  it,"  lie  an- 
nounced. 

Dora  looked  up  eagerly. 

"  What  ?    You're  going  to ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  have  a  shot  at  it.    Am  I  to 

stand  by  and  see  her ?    I'm  hanged  if  I 

do.     Could  that  be  right?" 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  one's  duty 
is?" 

"  This  talk  with  you  has  made  me  quite 
clear.  We've  reasoned  it  out,  you  see. 
They're  not  to  be  married  for  two  or  three 
months.     A  lot  can  be  done  in  that  time." 

"  Ah,  you're  a  man  !  " 


24  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  shall  write  first.  If  that  doesn't  do,  I 
shall  go  to  her." 

Dora  shook  her  head  mournfully. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Miss  Bellairs— you  don't 
mind  me  advising-  you  ?  " 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  let  you  see,  but  as 
it  is " 

"  You  do  as  I  do,  you  stick  to  it.  Con- 
found it,  you  know,  when  one's  life's  happi- 
ness is  at  stake " 

"Oh,  yes,  yes!" 

"  One  mustn't  be  squeamish,  must  one  ?  " 

And  Dora  Bellairs,  in  a  very  low  whisper, 
answered,  "No." 

"  I  shall  write  to-night." 

"Oh!    To-night?" 

"  Yes.    Now  promise  me  you  will  too." 

"  It's  harder  for  me  than  you." 

"  Not  if  he  really " 

"  Oh,  indeed,  he  really  does,  Mr.  Eller- 
ton." 

"  Then  you'll  write  ?  " 

"  Perhaps." 

"  No.     Promise  !  " 

"  Well— it  must  be  right.    Yes,  I  will." 

"I  feel  the  better  for  our  talk,  Miss  Bel- 
lairs, don't  you  ?  " 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  25 

"Idoa  little." 

"  We  shall  be  friends  now,  you  know  ; 
even  if  I  bring  it  off  I  shan't  be  content  un- 
less you  do  too.  Won't  you  give  me  your 
good  wishes  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  will." 

"  Shake  hands  on  it." 

They  shook  hands  and  began  to  stroll 
back  to  the  tennis-courts. 

"  They  look  a  little  better,"  observed  Sir 
Koger  Deane,  who  had  been  listening  to 
an  eloquent  description  of  the  gaming- 
tables. 

Dora  and  Charlie  walked  on  towards  the 
hotel. 

"Hi!"  shouted  Sir  Eoger.  "Tea's  com- 
ing out  here." 

"  I've  got  a  letter  to  write,"  said  Charlie. 

"Well,  Miss  Bellairs,  you  must  come. 
Who's  to  pour  it  out  ?  " 

"  I  must  catch  the  post,  Sir  Roger,"  an- 
swered Dora. 

They  went  into  the  house  together.  In 
the  hall  they  parted. 

"You'll  let  me  know  what  happens,  Mr. 
Ellerton,  won't  you  ?    I'm  so  interested." 

"  And  you  ?  " 


26  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Oh — well,  perhaps,"  and  the  sallow  of 
her  cheeks  had  turned  to  a  fine  dusky  red  as 
she  ran  upstairs. 

Thus  it  happened  that  a  second  letter  for 
John  Ashforth  and  a  second  letter  for  Mary 
Travers  left  Cannes  that  night. 

And  if  it  seems  a  curious  coincidence  that 
Dora  and  Charlie  should  meet  at  Cannes,  it 
can  only  be  answered  that  they  were  each  of 
them  just  as  likely  to  be  at  Cannes  as  any- 
where else.  Besides,  who  knows  that  these 
things  are  all  coincidence  ? 


CHAPTER  III 

A  PROVIDENTIAL  DISCLOSUEE 

On  Wednesday  the  eleventh  of  April, 
John  Ashforth  rose  from  his  bed  full  of  a 
great  and  momentous  resolution.  There  is 
nothing  very  strange  in  that,  perhaps  ;  it  is 
just  the  time  of  day  when  such  things  come 
to  a  man,  and,  in  ordinary  cases,  they  are 
very  prone  to  disappear  with  the  relics  of 
breakfast.  But  John  was  of  sterner  stuff. 
He  had  passed  a  restless  night,  tossed  to 
and  fro  by  very  disturbing  gusts  of  emotion, 
and  he  arose  with  the  firm  conviction  that  if 
he  would  escape  shipwreck  he  must  secure 
his  bark  by  immovable  anchors  while  he 
was,  though  not  in  honor,  yet  in  law  and 
fact,  free  ;  he  could  not  trust  himself.  Sor- 
rowfully admitting  his  weakness,  he  turned 
to  the  true,  the  right,  the  heroic  remedy. 

"  I'll  marry  Mary  to-day  fortnight,"  said 
he.     "When  we   are  man  and  wife  I  shall 


28  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

forget  this  madness  and  love  her  as  I  used 
to." 

He  went  down  to  breakfast,  ate  a  bit  of 
toast  and  drank  a  cup  of  very  strong"  tea. 
Presently  Mary  appeared  and  greeted  him 
with  remarkable  tenderness.  His  heart 
smote  him,  and  his  remorse  strengthened 
his  determination. 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you  after  breakfast," 
he  told  her. 

His  manner  was  so  significant  that  a  sud- 
den gleam  of  hope  flashed  into  her  mind. 
Could  it  be  that  he  had  seen,  that  he  would 
be  generous  ?  She  banished  the  shameful 
hope.  She  would  not  accept  generosity  at 
the  expense  of  pain  to  him. 

Miss  Bussey,  professing  to  find  bed  the 
best  place  in  the  world,  was  in  the  habit  of 
taking  her  breakfast  there.  The  lovers  were 
alone,  and,  the  meal  ended,  they  passed  to- 
gether into  the  conservatory.  Mary  sat 
down  and  John  leant  against  the  glass  door 
opposite  her. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  she,  smiling  at  him. 

It  suddenly  struck  John  that,  in  a  scene 
of  this  nature,  it  ill-befitted  him  to  stand 
three  yards  from  the  lady.     He  took  a  chair 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  29 

and  drew  it  close  beside  her.  The  thing  had 
to  be  done  and  it  should  be  done  properly. 

"  We've  made  a  mistake,  Mary,"  he  an- 
nounced, taking-  her  hand  and  speaking  in  a 
rallying  tone. 

"  A  mistake  ! "  she  cried  ;  "  oh,  how  ?  " 

"  In  fixing  our  marriage •" 

"  So  soon  ?  " 

"  My  darling  !  "  said  John  (and  it  was  im- 
possible to  deny  admiration  to  the  tone  he 
said  it  in),  "  no.  So  late !  What  are  we 
waiting  for  ?  Why  are  we  wasting  all  this 
precious  time  ?  " 

Mary  could  not  speak,  but  consternation 
passed  for  an  appropriate  confusion,  and 
John  pursued  his  passionate  pleadings.  As 
Mary  felt  his  grasp  and  looked  into  his  hon- 
est eyes,  her  duty  lay  plain  before  her.  She 
would  not  stoop  to  paltry  excuses  on  the 
score  of  clothes,  invitations,  or  such  trifles. 
She  had  made  up  her  mind  to  the  thing ; 
surely  she  ought  to  do  it  in  the  way  most 
gracious  and  most  pleasing  to  her  lover. 

"  If  Aunt  consents,"  she  murmured  at 
last,  "  do  as  you  like,  John  dear,"  and  the 
embrace  which  each  felt  to  be  inevitable  at 
such  a  crisis  passed  between  them. 


30  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

A  discreet  cough  separated  them.  The 
butler  stood  in  the  doorway,  with  two  letters 
on  a  salver.  One  he  handed  to  Mary,  the 
other  to  John,  and  walked  away  with  a  twin- 
kle in  his  eye.  However  even  our  butlers 
do  not  know  everything-  that  happens  in 
our  houses  (to  say  nothing  of  our  hearts), 
although  much  they  may  think  they  do. 

John  looked  at  his  letter,  started  violently 
and  crushed  it  into  his  pocket.  He  glanced 
at  Mary  ;  her  letter  lay  neglected  on  her 
lap.  She  was  looking  steadily  out  of  the 
window. 

"Well,  that's  settled,"  said  John.  "I— I 
think  I'll  have  a  cigar,  dear." 

"Yes,  do,  darling,"  said  Mary,  and  John 
went  out. 

These  second  letters  were  unfortunately 
so  long  as  to  make  it  impossible  to  repro- 
duce them.  They  were  also  very  affecting, 
Dora's  from  its  pathos,  Charlie's  from  its 
passion.  But  the  waves  of  emotion  beat 
fruitlessly  on  the  rock-built  walls  of  con- 
science. At  almost  the  same  moment,  Mary, 
brushing  away  a  tear,  and  John,  blowing 
his  nose,  sat  down  to  write  a  brief,  a  final 
answer.     "  We  are  to  be  married  to-day  fort- 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  31 

night,"  they  said.  They  closed  the  envel- 
opes without  a  moment's  delay  and  went  to 
drop  their  letters  in  the  box.  The  servant 
was  already  waiting1  to  go  to  the  post  with 
them  and  a  second  later  the  fateful  docu- 
ments were  on  their  way  to  Cannes. 

"  Now,"  said  John,  with  a  ghastly  smile, 
"we  can  have  a  glorious  long-  day  to- 
gether !  " 

Mary  was  determined  to  leave  herself  no 
loophole. 

"  We  must  tell  Aunt  what — what  we  have 
decided  upon  this  morning,"  she  reminded 
him.  "  It  means  that  the  wedding  must  be 
very  quiet." 

"  I  shan't  mind  that.     Shall  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  like  it  of  all  things,"  she  an- 
swered.    "  Come  and  find  Aunt  Sarah." 

Miss  Bussey  had  always — or  at  least  for 
a  great  many  years  back — maintained  the 
general  proposition  that  young  people  do 
not  know  their  own  minds.  This  morning's 
news  confirmed  her  opinion. 

"Why  the  other  day  you  both  agreed 
that  the  middle  of  June  would  do  perfect- 
ly. Now  you  want  it  all  done  in  a  scram- 
ble." 


32  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

The  pair  stood  before  her,  looking1  very 
guilty. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this — this  [she 
very  nearly  said  "  indecent "]  extraordinary 
haste  ?  " 

Miss  Bussey  asked  only  one  indulgence 
from  her  friends.  Before  she  did  a  kind 
thing  she  liked  to  be  allowed  to  say  one  or 
two  sharp  ones.  Her  niece  was  aware  of 
this  fancy  of  hers  and  took  refuge  in  silence. 
John,  less  experienced  in  his  hostess's  ways, 
launched  into  the  protests  appropriate  to  an 
impatient  lover. 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Bussey,  "  I  must  say 
you  look  properly  ashamed  of  yourself 
[John  certainly  did],  so  I'll  see  what  can  be 
done.  What  a  fluster  we  shall  live  in ! 
Upon  my  word  you  might  as  well  have  made 
it  to-morrow.  The  fuss  would  have  been  no 
worse  and  a  good  deal  shorter." 

The  next  few  days  passed,  as  Miss  Bus- 
sey had  predicted,  in  a  fluster.  Mary  was 
running  after  dress  -  makers,  John  after 
licences,  Cook's  tickets,  a  best  man,  and 
all  the  impedimenta  of  a  marriage.  The 
intercourse  of  the  lovers  was  much  inter- 
rupted, and  to  this  Miss  Bussey  attributed 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  33 

the  low  spirits  that  Mary  sometimes  dis- 
played. 

"  There,  there,  my  dear,"  she  would  say 
impatiently — for  the  cheerful  old  lady  hated 
long-  faces — "  you'll  have  enough  of  him  and 
to  spare  by  and  by." 

Curiously  this  point  of  view  did  not  com- 
fort Mary.  She  liked  John  very  much,  she 
esteemed  him  even  more  than  she  liked 
him,  he  would,  she  thought,  have  made  an 
ideal  brother.  Ah,  why  had  she  not  made  a 
brother  of  him  while  there  was  time  ?  Then 
she  would  have  enjoyed  his  constant  friend- 
ship all  her  life  ;  for  it  was  not  with  him  as 
with  that  foolish  boy  Charlie,  all  or  noth- 
ing. John  was  reasonable  ;  he  would  not 
have  threatened — well,  reading  his  letter 
one  way,  Charlie  almost  seemed  to  be  tam- 
pering with  propriety.  John  would  never 
have  done  that.  And  these  reflections,  all 
of  which  should  have  pleaded  for  John, 
ended  in  weeping  over  the  lost  charms  of 
Charlie. 

One  evening,  just  a  week  before  the  wed- 
ding, she  roused  herself  from  some  such 
sad  meditations,  and,  duty-driven,  sought 
John  in  the  smoking-room.     The  door  was 


34  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

half  open  and  she  entered  noiselessly.  John 
was  sitting  at  the  table  ;  his  arms  were  out- 
spread on  it,  and  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands.  Thinking-  he  was  asleep  she  ap- 
proached on  tiptoe  and  leant  over  his  shoul- 
der. As  she  did  so  her  eyes  fell  on  a  sheet 
of  note-paper ;  it  was  clutched  in  John's 
right  hand,  and  the  encircling  grasp  cov- 
ered it,  save  at  the  top.  The  top  was  vis- 
ible, and  Mary,  before  she  knew  what  she 
was  doing,  had  read  the  embossed  heading 
— nothing  else,  just  the  embossed  heading 
— Hotel  de  Luxe,  Cannes,  Alpes  Maritimes. 

The  drama  teaches  us  how  often  a  guilty 
mind  rushes,  on  some  trifling  cause,  to  self- 
revelation.  Like  a  flash  came  the  convic- 
tion that  Charlie  had  written  to  John,  that 
her  secret  was  known,  and  John's  heart 
broken.  In  a  moment  she  fell  on  her  knees 
crying, 

"  Oh,  how  wicked  I've  been !  Forgive 
me,  do  forgive  me !  Oh,  John,  can  you  for- 
give me  ?  " 

John  was  not  asleep,  he  also  was  merely 
meditating ;  but  if  he  had  been  a  very  Rip 
Van  Winkle  this  cry  of  agony  would  have 
roused  him.     He  started  violently — as  well 


THE  WHEEL   OF  LOVE  35 

he  might— from  his  seat,  looked  at  Mary, 
and  crumpled  the  letter  into  a  shapeless 
ball. 

"  You  didn't  see  ?  "  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"  No,  but  I  know.  I  mean  I  saw  the  head- 
ing, and  knew  it  must  be  from  him.  Oh, 
John ! " 

"  From  Mm  !  " 

"Yes.  He's — he's  staying  there.  Oh, 
John !  Really  I'll  never  see  or  speak  to  him 
again.  Really  I  won't.  Oh,  you  can  trust 
me,  John.  See  !  I'll  hide  nothing.  Here's 
his  letter !    You  see  I've  sent  him  away  ?  " 

And  she  took  from  her  pocket  Charlie's 
letter,  and  in  her  noble  fidelity  (to  John — 
the  less  we  say  about  poor  Charlie  the  better) 
handed  it  to  him. 

"  What's  this  ?  "  asked  John,  in  bewilder- 
ment.    "  Who's  it  from  ?  " 

"  Charlie  Ellerton,"  she  stammered. 

"  Who's  Charlie  Ellerton  ?  I  never  heard 
— but  am  I  to  read  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  please,  I — I  think  you'd  better." 

John  read  it ;  Mary  followed  his  eyes,  and 
the  moment  they  reached  the  end,  without 
giving  him  time  to  speak,  she  exclaimed, 

"  There,  you  see  I  spoke  the  truth.    I  had 


36  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

sent  him  away.  What  does  he  say  to  you, 
John  ?  " 

"  I  never  heard  of  him  in  my  life  before." 

"  John !     Then  who  is  your  letter  from  ?  " 

He  hesitated.  He  felt  an  impulse  to  imi- 
tate her  candor,  but  prudence  suggested 
that  he  should  be  sure  of  his  ground  first. 

"  Tell  me  all,"  he  said,  sitting  down. 
"  Who  is  this  man,  and  what  has  he  to  do 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  you  show  me  his  letter  ?  I 
don't  know  what  he's  said  about  me." 

"  What  could  he  say  about  you  ?  " 

"  Well  he — he  might  say  that — that  I  cared 
for  him,  John." 

"  And  do  you  ?  "  demanded  John,  and  his 
voice  was  anxious. 

Duty  demanded  a  falsehood ;  Mary  did 
her  very  best  to  satisfy  its  imperious  com- 
mands.    It  was  no  use. 

"  Oh,  John,"  she  murmured,  and  then  be- 
gan to  cry. 

For  a  moment  wounded  pride  struggled 
with  John's  relief ;  but  then  a  glorious  vi- 
sion of  what  this  admission  of  Mary's  might 
mean  to  him  swept  away  his  pique. 

"  Read  this,"  he   said,  giving  her  Dora 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  37 

Bellairs's  letter,  "and  then  we'll  have  an 
explanation." 

Half  an  hour  later  Miss  Bussey  was  roused 
from  a  pleasant  snooze.  John  and  Mary- 
stood  beside  her,  hand  in  hand.  They  were 
brother  and  sister  now — that  was  an  integral 
part  of  the  arrangement — and  so  they  stood 
hand  in  hand.     Their  faces  were  radiant. 

"  We  came  to  tell  you,  Auntie  dear,  that 
we  have  decided  that  we're  not  suited  to  one 
another,"  began  Mary. 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  John  decisively. 

Miss  Bussey  stared  helplessly  from  one  to 
the  other. 

"It's  all  right,  Miss  Bussey,"  remarked 
John  cheerfully.  "We've  had  an  explana- 
tion; we  part  by  mutual  consent." 

"John,"  said  Mary,  "is  to  be  just  my 
brother  and  I  his  sister.  Oh,  and  Auntie,  I 
want  to  go  with  him  to  Cannes." 

This  last  suggestion,  which  naturally  did 
not  appear  to  any  well-regulated  mind  to 
harmonize  with  what  had  gone  before,  re- 
stored voice  to  Miss  Bussey. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?  Are  you 
mad  ?  "  she  demanded. 

John   sat  down  beside  her.     His  friends 


38  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

anticipated  a  distinguished  Parliamentary 
career  for  John  ;  he  could  make  anything 
sound  reasonable.  Miss  Bussey  was  fasci- 
nated by  his  suave  and  fluent  narrative  of 
what  had  befallen  Mary  and  himself ;  she 
could  not  but  admire  his  just  remarks  on 
the  providential  disclosure  of  the  true  state 
of  the  case  before  it  was  too  late,  and  sym- 
pathized with  the  picture  of  suffering  nobly 
suppressed  which  grew  under  his  skilful 
hand ;  she  was  inflamed  when  he  ardently 
declared  his  purpose  of  seeking  out  Dora ; 
she  was  touched  when  he  kissed  Mary's 
hand  and  declared  that  the  world  held  no 
nobler  woman.  Before  John's  eloquence 
even  the  stern  facts  of  a  public  engage- 
ment, of  invited  guests,  of  dresses  ordered 
and  presents  received,  lost  their  force,  and 
the  romantic  spirit,  rekindled,  held  undivid- 
ed sway  in  Miss  Bussey's  heart. 

"  But,"  she  said,  "  why  does  Mary  talk  of 
going  to  Cannes  with  you  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ellerton  is  at  Cannes,  Aunt,"  mur- 
mured Mary,  shyly. 

"  But  you  can't  travel  with  John." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  come  too." 

"  It  looks  as  if  you  were  running  after  him." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  39 

"  I'll  chance  Charlie  thinking  that,"  cried 
Mary,  clasping-  her  hands  in  glee. 

Miss  Bussey  pretended  to  be  reluctant  to 
undertake  the  journey,  but  she  was  really 
quite  ready  to  yield,  and  soon  everything 
was  settled  on  the  new  basis. 

"  And  now  to  write  and  tell  people,"  said 
Miss  Bussey.     "  That's  the  worst  part  of  it." 

"Poor  dear!  We'll  help,"  cried  Mary. 
"But  I  must  write  to  Cannes." 

"  Wire !  "  cried  John. 

"  Of  course,  wire ! "  echoed  Mary. 

"  The  first  thing  to-morrow." 

"  Before  breakfast." 

"  Mary,  I  shall  never  forget " 

"  No,  John,  it's   you  who "  and  they 

went  off  in  a  torrent  of  mutual  laudation. 

Miss  Bussey  shook  her  head. 

"  If  they  think  all  that  of  one  another  why 
don't  they  marry  ?  "  she  said. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  TALE  OF  A  POSTMARK 

"  Yes,"  said  Lady  Deane,  "  we  leave  to- 
day week :  Roger  has  to  be  back  the  first 
week  in  May,  and  I  want  to  stop  at  one  or 
two  places  en  route." 

"Let's  see.  To-day's  the  19th,  no,  the 
20th  ;  there's  nothing  to  remind  one  of  time 
here.  That'll  be  the  27th.  That's  about  my 
date  ;  we  might  go  together  if  you  and  Deane 
have  no  objection." 

"  Oh,  I  should  be  delighted,  General ;  and 
shall  you  stay  at  all  in  Paris  ?  " 

"A  few  days — just  to  show  Dolly  the 
sights." 

"  How  charming !  And  you  and  I  must 
have  some  expeditions  together.  Roger  is 
so  odd  about  not  liking  to  take  me." 

"  We'll  do  the  whole  thing,  Lady  Deane," 
answered  General  Bellairs,  heartily.  "  Notre 
Dame,  the  Versailles,  the  Invalides,  Eiffel 
Tower." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  41 

Lady  Deane's  broad  white  brow  showed  a 
little  pucker. 

"  That  wasn't  quite  what  I  meant,"  said  she. 
"  Oh,  but  Roger  could  take  Dora  to  those, 
couldn't  he,  while  you  and  I  made  a  point  of 
seeing-  some  of  the  real  life  of  the  people  ? 
Of  studying-  them  in  their  ordinary  resorts, 
their  places  of  recreation  and  amusement." 

"  Oh,  the  Francais,  and  the  opera,  and  so 
on,  of  course." 

"  No,  no,  no,"  exclaimed  Lady  Deane,  tap- 
ping her  foot  impatiently  and  fixing  her 
gray  eyes  on  the  General's  now  puzzled  face. 
"  Not  the  same  old  treadmill  in  Paris  as  in 
London !     Not  that,  General !  " 

"  What  then,  my  dear  lady  ?  "  asked  he. 
"Your  wish  is  law  to  me,"  and  it  was  true 
that  he  had  become  very  fond  of  his  earnest 
young  friend.  "  What  do  you  want  to  see  ? 
The  Chamber  of  Deputies  ?  " 

Sir  Eoger's  voice  struck  in. 

"  I'm  not  a  puritanical  husband,  Bellairs, 
but  I  must  make  a  stand  somewhere.  Not 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies." 

"Don't  be  silly,  Roger  dear,"  said  Lady 
Deane,  in  her  usual  tone  of  dispassionate  re- 
proof. 


42  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"I  can't  find  out  where  she  does  want  to 
go  to,"  remarked  the  General. 

"  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Sir  Roger,  and  he 
leant  down  and  whispered  a  name  in  the 
General's  ear.     The  General  jumped. 

"  Good  heavens ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
haven't  been  there  since  the  fifties.  Is  it 
still  like  what  it  used  to  be  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  know  ? "  inquired  Sir 
Roger.  "  I'm  not  a  student  of  social  phe- 
nomena.    Maud  is,  so  she  wants  to  go." 

Lady  Deane  was  looking  on  with  a  quiet 
smile. 

"She  never  mentioned  it,"  protested  the 
General. 

"  Oh,  of  course  if  there's  a  worse  place 
now !  "  conceded  Sir  Roger. 

"Til  make  up  my  mind  when  we  arrive," 
observed  Lady  Deane.  "Anyhow  I  shall 
rely  on  you,  General." 

The  General  looked  a  little  uncomfort- 
able. 

"  If  Deane  doesn't  object " 

"  I  shouldn't  think  of  taking  my  wife  to 
such  places." 

Suddenly  Dora  Bellairs  rushed  up  to 
them. 


THE  WHEEL   OF  LOVE  43 

"Have  you  seen  Mr.  Ellerton  ?  "  she  cried. 
"Where  is  he?" 

"  In  the  smoking-room,"  answered  Sir 
Roger.     "  Do  yon  want  him  ?  " 

"Would  you  mind?  I  can't  go  in  there: 
it's  full  of  men." 

"  After  all  we  must  be  somewhere,"  plead- 
ed Sir  Roger  as  he  went  on  his  errand. 

"  Dolly,"  said  the  General,  "  I've  just 
made  a  charming  arrangement.  Lady  Deane 
and  Sir  Roger  start  for  Paris  to-day  week, 
and  we're  going  with  them.  You  said  you'd 
like  another  week  here." 

"It's  charming  our  being  able  to  go  to- 
gether, isn't  it  ?  "  said  Lady  Deane.  Dora's 
face  did  not  express  rapture,  yet  she  liked 
the  Deanes  very  much. 

"  Oh,  but ■"  she  began. 

"Well?"  asked  her  father. 

"  I  rather  want  to  go  a  little  sooner." 

"I'm  afraid,"  said  Lady  Deane,  "we 
sha'n't  get  Roger  to  move  before  then.  He's 
bent  on  seeing  the  tennis  tournament 
through.     When  did  you  want  to  go,  Dora  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  fact— to-night." 

"  My  dear  Dolly,  what  a  weathercock  you 
are !    It's  impossible.     I'm  dining  with  the 


44  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Grand  Duke  on  Monday.  You  must  make 
up  your  mind  to  stay,  young  woman." 

"  Oh,  please,  papa " 

"  But  why  do  you  want  to  go  ?  "  asked  the 
General,  rather  impatiently. 

Dora  had  absolutely  no  producible  reason 
for  her  eagerness  to  go.  And  yet — Oh,  if 
they  only  knew  what  was  at  stake !  "  We're 
to  be  married  in  a  fortnight ! "  She  could 
see  the  words  dancing  before  her  eyes. 
And  she  must  waste  a  precious  week  here ! 

"  Do  you  want  me,  Miss  Bellairs  ?  "  asked 
Charlie  Ellerton,  coming  up  to  them. 

"  Yes.  I  want — oh,  I  want  to  go  to  Bump- 
elmayer's." 

"All  right.  Come  along.  I'm  delighted 
to  go  with  you." 

They  walked  off  in  silence.  Dora  was  in 
distress.  She  saw  that  the  General  was  im- 
movable. 

Suddenly  Charlie  turned  to  her  and  re- 
marked, 

"  Well,  it's  all  over  with  me,  Miss  Bellairs." 

"  What  ?     How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  My  chance  is  gone.  They're  to  be  mar- 
ried in  a  fortnight.  I  had  a  letter  to  say  so 
this  morning." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  45 

Dora  turned  suddenly  to  him. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  too  extraordinary,"  she  cried. 
"So  had  I!" 

"What?" 

"Why,  a  letter  to  say  they  were  to  be 
married  in  a  fortnight." 

"  Nonsense !  " 

"Yes.  Mr.  Ellerton— who— who  is  your 
friend  ?  " 

"  Her  name's  Mary  Travers." 

"  And  who  is  she  going-  to  marry  ?  " 

"  Ah !    She  hasn't  told  me  that." 

A  suspicion  of  the  truth  struck  them  both. 
Charlie  produced  his  letter. 

"  She  writes,"  he  said,  showing  the  post- 
mark, "  from  Dittington." 

"  It  is  !  It  is ! "  she  cried.  "  It  must  be 
Mary  Travers  that  Mr.  Ashforth  is  going  to 
marry ! " 

"  Is  that  your  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Is  she  pretty,  Mr.  Ellerton  ?  " 

"Oh,  awfully.  What  sort  of  a  fellow  is 
he?" 

"  Splendid ! " 

"  Isn't  it  a  deuced  queer  thing  ?  " 

"  Most  extraordinary.  And  when  we  told 
one  another  we  never  thought " 


46  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  How  could  we  ?  " 
"  Well,  no,  we  couldn't,  of  course." 
A  pause  followed.    Then  Charlie  observed  : 
"  I  suppose  there's  nothing  to  be  done." 
"  Nothing  to  be  done,  Mr.  Ellerton  !    "Why 
if  I  were  a  man  I'd  leave  for  England  to- 
night." 

"  And  why  can't  you  ?  " 
"Papa  won't.     But  you  might." 
"Ye-es,  I   suppose  I  might.     It    would 
look  rather  odd,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  yourself  suggested  it ! " 
"Yes,  but  the  marriage   was  a  long  way 
off  then." 

"  There's  the  more  reason  now  for  haste." 

"  Of  course,  that's  true,  but " 

"  Oh,  if  papa  would  only  take  me ! " 
A  sudden  idea  seemed  to  strike  Charlie ; 
he  assumed  an  air  of  chivalrous  sympathy. 
"When  shall  you  go  ?  "  he  asked. 
"Not  till  to-day  week,"   she   said.     "We 
sha'n't  get  to  England  till  three  or  four  days 
before — it."    Dora  knew  nothing  of  the  pro- 
posed stay  in  Paris. 

"  Look  here,  Miss  Bellairs,"  said  Charlie, 
"we  agreed  to  stand  by  one  another.  I  shall 
wait  and  go  when  you  do." 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  47 


"  But  think- 


"  I've  thought." 

"  You're  risking  everything." 

"  If  she'll  break  it  off  ten  days  before, 
she'll  do  the  same  four  days  before." 

"If  she  really  loves  you  she  will." 

"  Anyhow  we'll  stand  or  fall  together." 

"  Oh,  I  oughtn't  to  let  you,  but  I  can't  re- 
fuse.   How  kind  you  are ! " 

"  Then  that's  settled,"  said  Charlie.  "  And 
we  must  try  to  console  one  another  till 
then." 

"  The  suspense  is  awful,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  But  we  must  appear  cheer- 
ful.    We  mustn't  betray  ourselves." 

"  Not  for  the  world !  I  can  never  thank 
you  enough.  You'll  come  with  us  all  the 
way  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Thank  you  again." 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  which  he  pressed 
gently. 

"  Hullo !  "  said  he.  "  We  seem  to  have 
got  up  by  the  church  somewhere.  Where 
were  we  going  to  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  Rumpelmayer's." 

"  Oh,  ah  !  Well,  let's  go  back  to  the  hotel." 


48  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Wonderings  on  the  extraordinary  coinci- 
dence, with  an  occasional  reference  to  the 
tender  tie  of  a  common  sorrow  which  bound 
them  together,  beguiled  the  journey  back, 
and  when  they  reached  the  hotel  Dora  was 
quite  calm.  Charlie  seemed  distinctly  cheer- 
ful, and  when  his  companion  left  him  he  sat 
down  by  Deane  and  remarked  in  a  careless 
way,  just  as  if  he  neither  knew  nor  eared 
what  the  rest  of  them  were  going-  to  do, 

"  Well,  I  shall  light  out  of  here  in  a  few 
days.  I  suppose  you're  staying  some  time 
longer  ?  " 

"  Off  in  a  week,"  said  Sir  Roger. 

"  Oh,  by  Jove,  that's  about  my  mark. 
Going  back  to  England  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so  —  ultimately.  We 
shall  stay  a  few  days  in  Paris  en  route.  The 
Bellairs'  go  with  us." 

"  Oh,  do  they  ?  " 

Sir  Roger  smiled  gently. 

"  Surprised  ?  "  he  asked. 

Charlie  ignored  the  question. 

"  And  you  aren't  going  to  hurry  ?  "  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Why  should  we  ?  " 

Charlie  sat  silent.    It  was  tolerably  plain 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  49 

that,  unless  the  few  dajrs  en  route  were  very 
few  indeed,  John  Ashfortk  and  Mary  Trav- 
ers  were  in  a  fair  way  to  be  prosperously 
and  peacefully  married  before  Dora  Bellairs 
set  foot  in  England.  And  if  he  stayed  with 
the  Bellairs',  before  he  did,  either !  Charlie 
lit  a  cigarette  and  sat  puffing  and  thinking. 

"Dashed  nice  girl,  Dora  Bellairs,"  ob- 
served Sir  Roger. 

"  Think  so  ?  " 

"  I  do.  She's  the  only  girl  I  ever  saw  that 
Laing  was  smitten  with." 

"  Laing  !  "  said  Charlie. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  ?  He's  an  un- 
common good  chap,  Laing— one  of  the  best 
chaps  I  know — and  he's  got  lots  of  coin.  I 
don't  expect  she'd  sneeze  at  Laing." 

It  is,  no  doubt,  taking  a  very  serious  re- 
sponsibility to  upset  an  arrangement  arrived 
at  deliberately  and  carried  almost  to  a  con- 
clusion. A  man  should  be  very  sure  that 
he  can  make  a  woman  happy — happier  than 
any  other  man  could — before  he  asks  her  to 
face  the  turmoil  and  the  scandal  of  breaking 
off  her  marriage  only  a  week  before  its  cele- 
bration. Sure  as  he  may  be  of  his  own  af- 
fection, he  must  be  equally  sure  of  hers, 
4 


50  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

equally  sure  that  their  mutual  love  is  deep 
and  permanent.  He  must  consider  his 
claims  to  demand  such  a  sacrifice.  What 
remorse  will  be  his  if,  afterwards,  he  dis- 
covers that  what  he  did  was  not,  in  truth, 
for  her  real  happiness !  He  must  be  on  his 
guard  against  mere  selfishness  or  mere  van- 
ity masquerading  in  the  garb  of  a  genuine 
passion. 

As  these  thoughts  occurred  to  Charlie  El- 
lerton  he  felt  that  he  was  at  a  crisis  of  his 
life.  He  also  felt  glad  that  he  had  still  a 
quiet  week  at  Cannes  in  which  to  revolve 
these  considerations  in  his  mind.  Above 
all,  he  must  do  nothing  hastily. 

Dora  came  out,  a  book  in  her  hand.  Her 
soft  white  frock  fluttered  in  the  breeze,  and 
she  pushed  back  a  loose  lock  of  dark  hair 
that  caressed  her  cheek. 

"  A  dashed  nice  girl,  upon  my  honor,"  said 
Sir  Roger  Deane. 

"  Oh,  very." 

"I  say,  old  chap,  I  suppose  you're  in  no 
hurry.  You'll  put  in  a  few  days  in  Paris  ? 
We  might  have  a  day  out,  mightn't  we  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  yet,"  said  Charlie,  and, 
when  Deane  left  him,  he  sat  on  in  solitude. 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  51 

Was  it   possible   that   in  the    space    of    a 

week ?      No,  it  was  impossible.      And 

yet,  with  a  girl  like  that 

"  I  did  the  right  thing  in  waiting  to  go 
with  her,  anyhow,"  said  Charlie,  comforting 
himself. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  SECOND  EDITION 

"  Don't  you  think  it's  an  interesting-  sort  of 
title  ?  "  inquired  Lady  Deane  of  Mr.  Laing. 

Laing  was  always  a  little  uneasy  in  her 
presence.  He  felt  not  only  that  she  was  an- 
alyzing him,  but  that  the  results  of  the  analy- 
sis seemed  to  her  to  be  a  very  small  residuum 
of  solid  matter.  Besides,  he  had  been  told 
that  she  had  described  him  as  a  "  common- 
place young  man,"  a  thing  nobody  could  be 
expected  to  like. 

"  Capital ! "  he  answered,  nervously  finger- 
ing his  eye-glass.  "  The  Transformation  of 
Giles  Brockleton !     Capital !  " 

"  I  think  it  will  do,"  said  Lady  Deane  com- 
placently. 

"  Er— what  was  he  transformed  into,  Lady 
Deane  ?  " 

"A  man,"  replied  the  lady  emphatically. 

"  Of  course.     I  see,"    murmured    Laing 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  53 

apologetically,  stifling-  a  desire  to  ask  what 
Giles  had  been  before. 

A  moment  later  the  author  enlightened 
him. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  into  a  man,  from  a  use- 
less, mischievous,  contemptible  idler,  a  para- 
site, Mr.  Laing,  a  creature  to  whom " 

"  What  did  it,  Lady  Deane  ?  "  interrupted 
Laing  hastily.  He  felt  somehow  as  if  he 
were  being  catalogued. 

"  Just  a  woman's  influence." 

Laing's  face  displayed  relief  ;  he  felt  that 
he  was  in  his  depth  again. 

"  Oh,  got  married,  you  mean  ?  Well,  of 
course,  he'd  have  to  pull  up  a  bit,  wouldn't 
he?  Hang  it,  I  think  it's  a  fellow's 
duty " 

"You  don't  quite  understand  me,"  ob- 
served Lady  Deane  coldly.  "  He  did  not 
marry  the  woman." 

"  What,  did  she  give  him  the — I  mean, 
wouldn't  she  have  him,  Lady  Deane?" 

"  She  would  have  married  him ;  but  be- 
side her  he  saw  himself  in  his  true  colors. 
Knowing  what  he  was,  how  could  he  dare  ? 
That  was  his  punishment,  and  punishment 
brouerht  transformation." 


54  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

As  Lady  Deane  sketched  her  idea,  her 
eyes  kindled  and  her  tone  became  animated. 
Laing  admired  both  her  and  her  idea,  and 
he  expressed  his  feelings  by  saying  : 

"  Remarkable  sort  of  chap,  Lady  Deane. 
I  shall  read  it  all  right,  you  know." 

"  I  think  you  ought,"  said  she,  rising,  and 
leaving  him  to  wonder  whether  she  had 
"  meant  anything." 

He  gave  himself  a  little  shake,  as  though 
to  escape  from  the  atmosphere  of  serious- 
ness which  she  had  diffused  about  him,  and 
looked  round.  A  little  way  off  he  saw  Dora 
Bellairs  and  Charlie  Ellerton  sitting  side  by 
side.  His  brow  clouded.  Before  Charlie 
came  it  had  been  his  privilege  to  be  Miss 
Bellairs's  cavalier,  and  although  he  never 
hoped,  nor,  to  tell  the  truth,  desired  more 
than  a  temporary  favor  in  her  eyes,  he  did 
not  quite  like  being  ousted. 

"  Pretty  good  for  a  fellow  who's  just  had 
the  bag!"  he  remarked  scornfully,  referring 
to  Roger  Deane's  unauthorized  revelation. 

It  was  the  day  before  the  exodus  to  Paris. 
Dora's  period  of  weary  waiting  had  worn  it- 
self away,  and  she  was  acknowledging  to 
Charlie  that  the  last  two  or  three  days  had 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  55 

passed  quicker  than  she  had  ever  thought 
they  could. 

"  The  first  two  days  I  was  wretched,  the 
next  two  gloomy,  but  these  last  almost 
peaceful.  In  spite  of — you  know  what — I 
think  you've  done  me  good  on  the  whole." 

"Don't  mention  it,"  said  Charlie,  fling- 
ing his  arm  over  the  back  of  the  seat  and 
looking  at  his  companion. 

"And  now — in  the  end,"  pursued  Dora, 
"  I'm  actually  a  little  sorry  to  leave  all  this  ; 
it's  so  beautiful,"  and  she  waved  her  parasol 
vaguely  at  the  hills  and  the  islands,  while 
with  the  other  hand  she  took  off  her  hat  and 
allowed  the  breeze  to  blow  through  her  hair. 

"It  is  jolly,  isn't  it?  "  she  asked. 

"I  should  rather  think  it  was,"  said  Char- 
lie. "  The  jolliest  I've  ever  seen."  It  was 
evident  that  he  did  not  refer  to  the  scenery. 

"  Oh,  you  promised  you  wouldn't,"  cried 
Dora  reproachfully. 

"  "Well,  then,  I'll  promise  again,"  he  re- 
plied, smiling  amiably. 

"  What  must  I  think  of  you,  when  only  a 

week  or  so  ago ?     Oh,  and  what  must 

you  think  of  me  to  suppose  I  could  ?  Oh, 
Mr.  Ellerton ! " 


56  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Like  to  know  what  I  think  of  you  ?  "  in- 
quired Charlie,  quite  unperturbed  by  this 
passionate  rebuke. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  she,  with  dignity, 
and  turned  away.  A  moment  later,  however, 
she  attacked  him  again. 

"  And  you've  done  nothing,"  she  said  in- 
dignantly, "  but  suggest  to  papa  interesting 
places  to  stop  at  on  the  way,  and  things  he 
ought  to  see  in  Paris.  Yes,  and  you  actu- 
ally suggested  going  home  by  sea  from 
Marseilles.  And  all  the  time  you  knew  it 
was  vital  to  me  to  get  home  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. To  me  ?  Yes,  and  to  you  last  week. 
Shall  I  tell  you  something,  Mr.  Ellerton  ?  " 

"  Please,"  said  Charlie.  "  Whisper  it  in 
my  ear,"  and  he  offered  his  head  in  fitting 
proximity. 

"  I  shouldn't  mind  who  heard,"  she  de- 
clared.    "  I  despise  you,  Mr.  Ellerton." 

Charlie  was  roused  to  a  protest. 

"  For  downright  unfairness  give  me  a 
girl ! "  said  he.  "  Here  have  I  taken  the 
manly  course !  After  a  short  period  of  weak- 
ness— I  admit  that — I  have  conquered  my 
feelings  ;  I  have  determined  not  to  distress 
Miss  Travers  by  intruding  upon  her  ;  I  have 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  57 

overcome  the  promptings  of  a  cowardly  de- 
spair ;  I  have  turned  my  back  resolutely  on 
a  past  devoid  of  hope.  I  am,  after  a  sore 
struggle,  myself  again.  And  my  reward, 
Miss  Bellairs,  is  to  be  told  that  you  despise 
me.  Upon  my  honor,  you'll  be  despising 
Simon  Stylites  next." 

"  And  you  wrote  and  told  Miss  Travers 
you  were  coming !  " 

"  All  right.  I  shall  write  and  tell  her  I'm 
not  coming.  I  shall  say,  Miss  Bellairs, 
that  it  seems  to  me  to  be  an  undignified 
thing " 

"  To  do  what  I'm  going  to  do  ?  Thank 
you,  Mr.  Ellerton." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot." 

"  The  irony  of  it  is  that  you  persuaded  me 
to  do  it  yourself." 

"  I  was  a  fool ;  but  I  didn't  know  you  so 
well  then." 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Everything." 

"  You  didn't  know  yourself,  I'm  afraid," 
she  remarked.  "  You  thought  you  were  a 
man  of  some — some  depth  of  feeling,  some 
constancy,  a  man  whose — whose  regard  a 
girl  would  value,  instead  of  being " 


58  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Just  a  poor  devil  who  worships  the 
ground  you  tread  on." 

Dora  laughed  scornfully. 

"  Second  edition  !  "  said  she.  "  The  first 
dedicated  to  Miss  Travers." 

And  then  Charlie  (and  it  is  things  like 
these  which  shake  that  faith  in  human 
nature  that  we  try  to  cling  to)  said  in  a  low 
but  quite  distinct  voice  : 

"  Oh,  d n  Miss  Travers ! " 

Dora  shot — it  almost  looked  as  if  some- 
thing had  shot  her,  as  it  used,  in  old  days, 
Miss  Zazel — up  from  her  seat. 

"  I  thought  I  was  talking  to  a  gentleman" 
said  she.  "  I  suppose  you'll  use  that — ex- 
pression— about  me  in  a  week." 

"  In  a  good  deal  less,  if  you  treat  me  like 
this,"  said  Charlie,  and  his  air  was  one  of 
hopeless  misery. 

We  all  recollect  that  Anne  ended  by  being 
tolerably  kind  to  wicked  King  Richard. 
After  all,  Charlie  had  the  same  excuse. 

"I  don't  want  to  be  unkind,"  said  Dora 
more  gently. 

"  I'll  do  anything  in  the  world  to  please 
you." 

"  Then  make  papa  go  straight  to  Paris, 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  59 

and  straight  on  from  Paris,"  said  Dora, 
using  her  power  mercilessly. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  I  didn't  mean  that,  Miss  Bel- 
lairs." 

"  You  said  you'd  do  anything'  I  liked." 

Charlie  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

"  I  suppose  you've  no  pity  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"For  you?    Not  a  bit." 

"You  probably  don't  know  how  beautiful 
you  are  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  foolish,  and — and  impertinent." 

She  was  standing  opposite  to  him.  With 
a  sudden  motion,  he  sprang  forward,  fell  on 
one  knee,  seized  her  ungloved  hand,  covered 
it  with  kisses,  sprang  up,  and  hastened 
away,  crying  as  he  went  : 

"  All  right.     I'll  do  it." 

Dora  stood  where  he  left  her.  First  she 
looked  at  her  hand,  then  at  Charlie's  retreat- 
ing back,  then  again  at  her  hand.  Her 
cheek  was  flushed  and  she  trembled  a 
little. 

"  John  never  did  that,"  she  said,  "  at  least, 
not  without  asking.  And  even  then,  not 
quite  like  that." 

She  walked  on  slowly,  then  stopped  and 
exclaimed : 


60  C03IEBIE8  OF  COURTSHIP 

"I  wonder  if  he  ever  did  that  to  Mary 
Travers." 

And  her  last  reflection  was  : 

"  Poor  boy.     He  must  be — oh,  dear  me  ! " 

When  Charlie  reached  the  tennis-courts, 
he  was,  considering  the  moving-  scene 
through  which  he  had  passed,  wonderfully 
calm.  In  fact  he  was  smiling  and  whistling. 
Espying  Sir  Roger  Deane,  he  went  and  sat 
down  by  him. 

"Roger,"  said  he,  "I'm  going  with  you 
and  the  Bellairs'  to-morrow." 

"  I  know  that." 

"  Miss  Bellairs  wants  to  go  straight 
through  to  England  without  stopping  any- 
where." 

"  She'll  have  to  want,  I  expect." 

"  And  I've  promised  to  try  and  get  the 
General  to  do  what  she  wants." 

"  Have  you  though  ?  " 

"  I  suppose,  Roger,  old  fellow — you  know 
you've  great  influence  with  him — I  suppose 
it's  no  use  asking  you  to  say  a  word  to  him  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  Maud  particularly  wants  him  to 
stay  with  us  in  Paris." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  61 

"  Oh,  of  course,  if  Lady  Deane  wishes  it, 
I  mustn't  say  a  word.  She's  quite  made  up 
her  mind  about  it,  has  she  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  so." 

"  She's  strong-  on  it,  I  mean  ?  Not  likely 
to  change  ?  " 

"I  think  not,  Charlie." 

"  She'd  ask  him  to  stay,  as  a  favor  to 
her  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  at  all  wonder." 

"  Oh,  well  then,  my  asking  him  won't 
make  much  difference." 

"  Frankly,  I  don't  see  why  it  should." 

"  Thanks.  I  only  wanted  to  know.  You're 
not  in  a  hurry,  Koger  ?  I  mean,  you  won't 
ask  your  wife  to  go  straight  on?  " 

"  No,  I  shan't,  Charlie.  I  want  to  stop 
myself." 

"  Thanks,  old  chap  !  See  you  at  dinner," 
and  Charlie  strolled  off  with  a  reassured 
air. 

Sir  Roger  sat  and  thought. 

"I  see  his  game,"  he  said  to  himself  at 
last,  "but  I'm  hanged  if  I  see  hers.  Why 
does  she  want  to  get  back  to  England  ? 
Perhaps  if  I  delay  her  as  much  as  I  can, 
she'll  tell  me.     Hanged  if  I  don't!     Anyhow 


62  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

I'm  glad  to  see  old  Charlie  getting  conva- 
lescent." 

The  next  morning  the  whole  party  left 
Cannes  by  the  early  train.  The  Bellairs', 
the  Deanes,  and  Charlie  Ellerton  travelled 
together.  Laing  announced  his  intention 
of  following  by  the  afternoon  train. 

"  Oh,"  said  Lady  Deane,  "  you'll  get  to 
Paris  sooner  than  we  do."  Dora  looked 
gloomy ;  so  did  Charlie,  after  a  momentary, 
hastily  smothered  smile. 

The  porter  approached  and  asked  for  an 
address.  They  told  him  the  Grand  Hotel, 
Paris. 

"  If  anything  comes  to-day,  I'll  bring  it 
on,"  said  Laing. 

"  Yes,  do ;  we  shall  have  no  address  be- 
fore Paris,"  answered  General  Bellairs. 

They  drove  off,  and  Laing,  feeling  rather 
solitary,  returned  to  his  cigar.  An  hour 
later  the  waiter  brought  him  two  telegrams, 
one  for  Dora  and  one  for  Charlie.  He 
looked  at  the  addresses. 

"  Just  too  late,  by  Jove  !  All  right,  gar- 
con,  I'll  take  'em,"  and  he  thrust  them  into 
the  pocket  of  his  flannel  jacket.  And  when, 
after  lunch,  he  could  not  stand  the  dulness 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  63 

any  longer  and  went  to  Monte  Carlo,  he  left 
the  telegrams  in  the  discarded  flannels, 
where  they  lay  till  —  the  time  when  they 
were  discovered.  For  Mr.  Laing  clean  for- 
got all  about  them ! 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  MAN  WITH  A  THEORY 

Even  Miss  Bussey  was  inclined  to  think 
that  all  had  happened  for  the  best.  John's 
eloquence  had  shaken  her  first  disapproba- 
tion ;  the  visible  happiness  of  the  persons 
chiefly  concerned  pleaded  yet  more  per- 
suasively. What  harm,  after  all,  was  done, 
except  for  a  little  trouble  and  a  little  gos- 
sip ?  To  these  Mary  and  John  were  utterly 
indifferent.  At  first  they  had  been  rather 
shy  in  referring-,  before  one  another,  to  their 
loves,  but  custom  taught  them  to  mention 
the  names  without  confusion,  and  ere  long 
they  had  exchanged  confidences  as  to  their 
future  plans.  John's  arrangement  was  ob- 
viously the  more  prudent  and  becoming. 
He  discountenanced  Mary's  suggestion  of 
an  unannounced  descent  on  Cannes,  and 
persuaded  her  to  follow  his  example  and 
inform  her  lover  that  she  would  await  news 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  65 

from  him  in  Paris.  They  were  to  put  up  at 
the  European,  and  telegrams  there  from 
Cannes  would  find  them  on  and  after  April 
28th.  All  this  valuable  information  was 
contained  in  the  despatches,  which  lay, 
with  their  priceless  messages,  on  the  said 
April  28th,  in  Mr.  Arthur  Laing's  flannel 
jacket,  inside  his  portmanteau,  on  the  way 
to  Paris. 

Paris  claims  to  be  the  centre  of  the  world, 
and  if  it  be,  the  world  has  a  very  good  cen- 
tre. Anyhow  Paris  becomes,  from  this 
moment,  the  centre  of  this  drama.  Not 
only  was  Arthur  Laing  being  whirled  there 
by  the  Nice  express,  and  Miss  Bussey's 
party  proceeding  thither  by  the  eleven 
o'clock  train  from  Victoria — Mary  laughed 
as  she  thought  it  might  have  been  her 
honeymoon  she  was  starting  on — but  the 
Bellairs'  and  their  friends  were  heading  for 
the  same  point.  Miss  Bussey's  party  had 
the  pleasanter  journey  ;  they  were  all  of  one 
mind ;  Miss  Bussey  was  eager  to  reach 
Paris  because  it  was  the  end  of  the  journey ; 
John  and  Mary  desired  nothing  but  the 
moment  when  with  trembling  fingers  they 
should  tear  open  their  telegrams  in  the  hall 


66  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

of  the  hotel.  The  expedition  from  the  south 
did  not  enjoy  a  like  unanimity  ;  but  before 
following  their  steps  we  may,  in  the  interest 
of  simplicity,  land  the  first  detachment  safe- 
ly at  its  destination. 

When  Mary  and  John,  followed  by  Miss 
Bussey — they  outstripped  her  in  their  eager- 
ness— entered  the  hotel,  a  young  man  with 
an  eye-glass  was  just  engaging  a  bedroom. 
John  took  his  place  beside  the  stranger,  and 
asked  in  a  voice,  which  he  strove  to  render 
calm,  if  there  were  any  letters  for 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir.  In  one  moment,"  said 
the  clerk,  and  he  added  to  Laing,  "  Number 
37,  sir."  Laing — Oh,  the  irony  of  things ! — 
turned  on  John  and  his  companion  just  that 
one  supercilious  glance  which  we  bestow  on 
other  tourists,  and  followed  his  baggage 
upstairs. 

"  Anything,"  resumed  John,  "  for  Miss 
Travers  or  Mr.  Ashforth  ? "  And  he  suc- 
ceeded in  looking  as  if  he  did  not  care  a 
straw  whether  there  were  or  not. 

After  a  search  the  porter  answered, 
"  Nothing,  sir." 

"  What  ?  "  exclaimed  John,  aghast.  "  Oh, 
nonsense,  look  again." 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  67 

Another  search  followed ;  it  was  without 
result. 

John  saw  Mary's  appealing  eyes  fixed  on 
him. 

"  Nothing,"  he  said  tragically. 

"Oh,  John!" 

"Have  you  taken  the  rooms,  Mr.  Ash- 
forth  ?  "  inquired  Miss  Bussey. 

"No.    I'm  sorry.    I  forgot  all  about  them." 

Miss  Bussey  was  tired  ;  she  had  been  sea- 
sick, and  the  train  always  made  her  feel 
queer. 

"  Has  neither  of  you  got  an  ounce  of  wits 
about  you  ?  "  she  demanded,  and  plunged 
forward  to  the  desk.  John  and  Mary  re- 
ceived their  numbers  in  gloomy  silence,  and 
mounted  the  stairs. 

Now  Arthur  Laing  in  his  hasty  survey  of 
the  party  had  arrived  at  a  not  unnatural  but 
wholly  erroneous  conclusion.  He  had  seen 
a  young  man,  rather  nervous,  a  young  wom- 
an, looking  anxious  and  shy,  and  an  elderly 
person,  plainly  dressed  (Miss  Bussey  was 
no  dandy)  sitting  (Miss  Bussey  always  sat 
as  soon  as  she  could)  on  a  trunk.  He  took 
John  and  Mary  for  a  newly  married  couple, 
and  Miss  Bussey  for  an  old  family  servant 


68  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

detailed  to  look  after  her  young-  mistress's 
entry  into  independent  housekeeping-. 

"  More  infernal  honeymooners,"  he  said 
to  himself,  as  he  washed  his  hands.  "  The 
place  is  always  full  of  'em.  Girl  wasn't  bad- 
looking,  though." 

The  next  morning,  unhappily,  confirmed 
him  in  his  mistake.  For  Miss  Bussey,  over- 
come by  the  various  trials  of  the  day  before, 
kept  her  bed,  and  when  Laing  came  down, 
the  first  sight  which  met  his  eyes  was  a 
breakfast-table,  whereat  Mary  and  John  sat 
tete-a-tete.  He  eyed  them  with  that  mixture 
of  scorn  and  envy  which  their  supposed 
situation  awakens  in  a  bachelor's  heart,  and 
took  a  place  from  which  he  could  survey 
them  at  leisure.  There  is  a  bright  side 
to  everything ;  and  that  of  Laing's  mistake 
was  the  pleasure  he  derived  from  his  delu- 
sion. Sticking  his  glass  firmly  in  his  eye, 
he  watched  like  a  cat  for  those  playful  little 
endearments  which  his  cynical  mood — he 
was,  like  many  of  us,  not  at  his  best  in 
the  morning — led  him  to  anticipate.  He 
watched  in  vain.  The  young  people  were 
decorum  itself ;  more  than  that,  they  showed 
signs  of  preoccupation ;    they  spoke  only 


TEE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  69 

occasionally,  and  then  with  a  business-like 
brevity. 

Suddenly  the  waiter  entered,  with  a  hand- 
ful of  letters  which  he  proceeded  to  distrib- 
ute. Laing  expected  none,  and  kept  his 
gaze  on  his  honeymooners.  To  his  surprise 
they  showed  animation  enough  now ;  their 
eyes  were  first  on  the  waiter's  approaching 
form ;  the  bridegroom  even  rose  an  inch  or 
two  from  his  seat ;  both  stretched  out  their 
hands. 

Alas,  with  a  little  bow,  a  smile,  and  a 
shrug,  the  waiter  passed  by,  and  the  disap- 
pointed couple  sank  back,  with  looks  of 
blank  despair. 

Surely  here  was  enough  to  set  any  open- 
minded  man  on  the  right  track !  Yes  ;  but 
not  enough  to  free  one  who  was  tied  and 
bound  to  his  own  theory. 

"  She's  dashed  anxious  to  hear  from 
home !  "  mused  Laing.  "  Poor  girl !  It  ain't 
over  and  above  flattering  to  him,  though." 

He  finished  his  breakfast  and  went  out  to 
smoke.  Presently  he  saw  his  friends  come 
out  also  ;  they  went  to  the  porter's  desk  and 
he  heard  one  of  them  say  "  telegram."  A 
sudden  idea  struck  him. 


70  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  am  an  ass  !  "  said  he.  "  Tell  you  what 
it  is  ;  they've  wired  for  rooms  somewhere — ■ 
Monte,  most  likely — and  can't  start  till  they 
get  an  answer." 

He  was  so  pleased  with  his  explanation 
that  his  last  doubt  vanished  and  he  watched 
Mary  and  John  start  for  a  walk — the  fraternal 
relations  they  had  established  would  have 
allowed  such  a  thing-  even  in  London,  much 
more  in  Paris  —  with  quite  a  benevolent 
smile. 

"  Aunt  Sarah  is  really  quite  poorly,"  re- 
marked Mary  as  they  crossed  the  road  and 
entered  the  Tuileries  Gardens.  "  She'll 
have  to  stay  in  all  to-day  and  perhaps  to- 
morrow. Isn't  it  hard  upon  her?  Paris 
amuses  her  so  much." 

John  expressed  his  sympathy. 

"  Now  if  it  had  been  you  or  I,"  he  ended, 
"  we  shouldn't  have  minded.  Paris  doesn't 
amuse  us  just  now." 

"  Oh,  but,  John,  we  must  be  ready  to  start 
at  any  moment." 

"  You  can't  start  without  Miss  Bussey." 

"  I  think  that  in  a  wagon-lit "  began 

Mary. 

"  But  what's  the  good  of  talking  ?  "  cried 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  71 

John,  bitterly.  "  Why  is  there  no  news 
from  her  ?  " 

"  He  might  have  wired — John,  is  it  possi- 
ble our  telegrams  went  astray  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  must  wait  a  day  or  two  ;  or,  if 
you  like,  we  can  wire  again." 

Mary  hesitated. 

"I — I  can't  do  that,  John.  Suppose  he'd 
received  the  first,  and — and " 

"  Yes,  I  see.  I  don't  want  to  humiliate 
myself  either." 

"We'll  wait  a  day,  anyhow.  And,  now, 
John,  let's  think  no  more  about  them  !  Oh, 
well,  that's  nonsense  ;  but  let's  enjoy  our- 
selves as  well  as  we  can." 

They  managed  to  enjoy  themselves  very 
well.  The  town  was  new  to  Mary,  and  John 
found  a  pleasure  in  showing  it  off  to  her. 
After  a  morning  of  sight-seeing,  they  drove 
in  the  Bois,  and  ended  the  day  at  the  thea- 
tre. Miss  Bussey,  unfortunately,  was  no 
better.  She  had  sent  for  an  English  doctor 
and  he  talked  vaguely  about  two  or  three 
days  in  bed.  Mary  ventured  to  ask  whether 
her  aunt  could  travel. 

"  Oh,  if  absolutely  necessary,  perhaps ; 
but  much  better  not,"  was  the  answer. 


72  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Well,  it  was  not  absolutely  necessary  yet, 
for  no  letter  and  no  telegram  arrived.  This 
was  the  awful  fact  that  greeted  them  when 
they  came  in  from  the  theatre. 

"We'll  wire  the  first  thing-  to-morrow," 
declared  John,  in  a  resolute  tone.  "  Write 
yours  to-night,  Mary,  and  I'll  give  them  to 
the  porter " 

"  Oh,  not  mine,  please,"  cried  Mary,  in 
shrinking  bashfulness.  "  I  can't  let  the 
porter  see  mine  !  " 

"  Well,  then,  we'll  take  them  out  before 
breakfast  to-morrow." 

To  this  Mary  agreed,  and  they  sat  down 
and  wrote  their  despatches.  While  they 
were  so  engaged  Laing  jumped  out  of  a  cab 
and  entered  the  room.  He  seized  an  English 
paper,  and,  flinging  himself  into  a  chair,  be- 
gan to  study  the  sporting  news.  Presently  he 
stole  a  glance  at  Mary.  It  so  chanced  that 
just  at  the  same  moment  she  was  stealing  a 
glance  at  him.  Mary  dropped  her  eyes  with 
a  blush  ;  Laing  Avithdrew  behind  his  paper. 

"  Shy,  of  course.  Anybody  would  be,"  he 
thought,  with  a  smile. 

"  Did  you  like  the  piece,  Mary  ?  "  asked 
John- 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  73 

"  Oh,  very  much.  I  wish  Aunt  Sarah 
could  have  seen  it.  She  missed  so  much 
fun." 

"  Well,  she  could  hardly  have  come  with 
us,  could  she  ?  "  remarked  John. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Mary. 

"  Well,  I  should  rather  think  not,"  whis- 
pered Laing,  who  failed  to  identify  "  Aunt 
Sarah"  with  the  elderly  person  on  the 
trunk. 

"I  shouldn't  have  been  happy  if  she  had," 
said  Mary. 

"  I  simply  wouldn't  have  let  her,"  said 
John,  in  that  authoritative  tone  which  so 
well  became  him. 

"No  more  would  I  in  your  place,  old 
chap,"  murmured  Mr.  Laing. 

Mary  rose. 

"Thanks  for  all  your  kindness,  John. 
Good-night." 

"  I'm  so  glad  you've  had  a  pleasant  day. 
Good-night,  Mary." 

So  they  parted — with  a  good-night  as 
calm,  as  decorous,  as  frankly  fraternal  as 
one  could  wish  (or  wish  otherwise).  Yet  its 
very  virtues  undid  it  in  the  prematurely 
suspicious  eyes  of  Arthur  Laing.     For  no 


74  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

sooner  was  he  left  alone  than  he  threw  down 
his  paper  and  began  to  chuckle. 

"  All  for  my  benefit,  that,  eh  ?  '  Good- 
night, Mary  ! '  '  Good-night,  John  ! '  Lord  ! 
Lord ! "  and  he  rose,  lit  a  cigarette,  and 
ordered  a  brandy-and-soda.  And  ever  and 
again  he  smiled.    He  felt  very  acute  indeed. 

So  vain  is  it  for  either  wisdom  or  simplic- 
ity, candor  or  diplomacy  —  nay,  for  facts 
themselves — to  struggle  against  a  Man  with 
a  Theory.  Mr.  Laing  went  to  bed  no  more 
doubting  that  Mary  and  John  were  man  and 
wife  than  he  doubted  that  he  had  "  spotted  " 
the  winner  of  the  Derby.  Certitude  could 
no  farther  go. 


CHAPTEE  VII 

THE  SIGHTS  OF  AVIGNON 

"  It's  a  curious  thing,"  observed  Roger 
Deane,  "  but  this  fellow  Baedeker  always 
travels  the  opposite  way  to  what  I  do. 
When  I'm  coming  back,  he's  always  going 
out,  and  vice  versa.  It  makes  him  precious 
difficult  to  understand,  I  can  tell  you,  Miss 
Dora.  However  I  think  I've  got  him  now. 
Listen  to  this !  '  Marseilles  to  Aries  (Amphi- 
theatre starred)  one  day.  Aries  to  Avignon 
(Palace  of  the  Popes  starred)  two  days — slow 
going  that — Avignon  to '  " 

"  Do  you  want  to  squat  in  this  wretched 
country,  Sir  Roger  ?  "  demanded  Dora  an- 
grily. 

A  faint  smile  played  round  Sir  Roger's  lips. 

"  You're  the  only  one  who's  in  a  hurry," 
he  remarked. 

"  No,  I'm  not.  Mr.  Ellerton  is  in  just  as 
much  of  a  hurry." 


76  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Then  he  bears  disappointment  better." 
"  What  in  the  world  did  papa  and — well, 
and  Lady  Deane,  you  know — want  to  stop 
here  for  ?  " 

"  You  don't  seem  to  understand  how  in- 
teresting- Marseilles  is.  Let  me  read  you  a 
passage.  '  Marseilles  was  a  colony  founded 
about  600  B.C.'—  What?  Oh,  all  right! 
We'll  skip  a  bit.  '  In  1792  hordes  of  galley- 
slaves  were  sent  hence  to  Paris,  where  they 
committed  frightful  excesses.'  That's  what 
Maud  and  your  father  are  going  to  do.  '  It 
was  for  them  that  Kouget — '  I  say,  what's 
the  matter,  Miss  Dora  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  enjoy  teas- 
ing me,  but  you  have  nearly  made  me  cry,  so 
perhaps  you'll  be  happy  now." 

"You  tried  to  take  me  in.  I  pretended 
to  be  taken  in.     That's  all." 

"  Well,  it  was  very  unkind  of  you." 
"  So,  after  all,  it's  not  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference to  you  at  what  rate  we   travel,  as 
you  said  in  the  train  to-day  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  had  to.    I — I  couldn't  let  papa  see." 
"And  why  are  you  in  a  hurry?  " 
"  I  can't  tell  you  ;  but  I  must — oh,  I  must ! 
— be  in  England  in  four  days." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  77 

"  You'll  hardly  get  your  father  to  give  up 
a  day  at  Avignon." 

"  Well,  one  day  there ;  then  we  should 
just  do  it,  if  we  only  slept  in  Paris." 

"  Yes,  but  my  wife " 

"  Oh,  you  can  stay.  Don't  say  anything 
about  Paris  yet.  Help  me  to  get  there.  I'll 
make  papa  go  on.  Please  do,  Sir  Roger. 
I  shall  be  so  awfully  obliged  to  you  ;  so  will 
Mr.  Ellerton." 

"  Charlie  Ellerton  ?  Not  he  !  He's  in  no 
hurry." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Didn't  you  hear 
him  to-day  urging  papa  to  travel  straight 
through." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  heard  that." 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  You  were  there  then." 

"  What  of  that  ?  " 

"  He's  not  so  pressing  when  you're  away." 

"  I  don't  understand.  Why  should  he  pre- 
tend to  be  in  a  hurry  when  he  isn't  ?  " 

"  Ah,  I  don't  know.     Don't  you  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Sir  Roger.  But  never 
mind  Mr.  Ellerton.    Will  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  Paris.  You  must  look  out  for 
yourself  there." 


7S  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

These  terms  Dora  accepted.  Surely  at 
Paris  she  would  hear  some  news  of  or  from 
John  Ashforth.  She  thought  he  must  have 
written  one  line  in  response  to  her  last 
letter,  and  that  his  answer  must  have  been 
so  far  delayed  as  to  arrive  at  Cannes  after 
her  departure  ;  it  would  be  waiting"  for  her 
at  Paris  and  would  tell  her  whether  she  was 
in  time  or  whether  there  was  no  more  use 
in  hurrying-.  The  dread  that  oppressed  her 
was  lest,  arriving  too  late  in  Paris,  she  should 
find  that  she  had  missed  happiness  by  rea- 
son of  this  wretched  dawdling  in  Southern 
France. 

Seeing  her  meditative,  Deane  slipped 
away  to  his  cigar,  and  she  sat  in  the  hotel 
hall,  musing.  Deane's  revelation  of  Char- 
lie's treachery  hardly  surprised  her ;  she 
meant  to  upbraid  him  severely,  but  she  was 
conscious  that,  if  little  surprised,  she  was 
hardly  more  than  a  little  angry.  His  con- 
duct was  indeed  contemptible,  it  revealed 
an  utter  instability  and  fickleness  of  mind 
which  made  her  gravely  uneasy  as  to  Mary 
Travers's  chances  of  permanent  happiness. 
Yes,  scornful  one  might  be  ;  but  who  could 
be  seriously  angry  with  the  poor  boy  ?   And 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  79 

perhaps,  after  all,  slie  did  liim  injustice. 
Some  natures  were  more  prone  than  others 
to  sudden  passions  ;  it  really  did  not  follow 
that  a  feeling"  must  be  either  shallow  or 
short-lived  because  it  was  sudden  ;  whether 
it  survived  or  passed  away  would  depend 
chiefly  on  the  person  who  excited  it.  It  was 
clear  that  Mary  Travers  was  incapable  of 
maintaining*  a  permanent  hold  over  Charlie's 
affections,  but  another  girl  might  —  might 
have.  If  so,  it  would  perhaps  be  a  pity  if 
Charlie  and  Mary  Travers  were  to  come  to- 
gether again.  She  doubted  very  much  if 
they  were  suited  to  one  another.  She  pict- 
ured Mary  as  a  severe,  rather  stern  young 
woman  ;  and  she  hardly  knew  whether  to 
laugh  or  groan  at  the  thought  of  Charlie 
adapting  himself  to  such  a  mate.  Mean- 
while her  own  position  was  certainly  very 
difficult,  and  she  acknowledged  its  thorn- 
iness  with  a  little  sigh.  To  begin  with,  the 
suspense  was  terrible ;  at  times  she  would 
have  been  almost  relieved  to  hear  that  John 
was  married  beyond  recall.  Then  Charlie 
was  a  great  and  a  growing  difficulty.  He 
had  not  actually  repeated  the  passionate  in- 
discretion of  which  he  had  been  guilty  at 


80  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Cannes,  but  more  and  more  watchfulness 
and  severity  were  needed  to  keep  him  with- 
in the  bounds  proper  to  their  relative  posi- 
tions, and  it  was  odious  to  be  disagreeable 
to  a  fellow-traveller,  especially  when  he  was 
such  a  good  and  devoted  friend  as  Charlie. 

Sir  Roger  loyally  carried  out  his  bargain. 
Lady  Deane  was  hurried  on,  leaving  Mar- 
seilles, with  its  varied  types  of  humanity 
and  its  profound  social  significance,  prac- 
tically unexplored  ;  Aries  and  Amphithea- 
tre, in  spite  of  the  beckoning  "  star,"  were 
dropped  out  of  the  programme,  and  the  next 
day  found  the  party  at  Avignon.  And  now 
they  were  once  more  for  a  moment  in  har- 
mony. Dora  could  spare  twenty-four  hours  ; 
Lady  Deane  and  the  General  were  mollified 
by  conscious  unselfishness  ;  the  prospect  of 
a  fresh  struggle  at  Paris  lay  well  in  the 
background  and  was  discreetly  ignored ; 
Charlie  Ellerton,  who  had  reached  the  most 
desperate  stage  of  love,  looked  neither  back 
nor  forward.  It  was  enough  for  him  to  have 
wrung  four  -  and  -  twenty  hours  of  Dora's 
company  from  fate's  reluctant  grasp.  He 
meant  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

She  and  he  sat,  on  the  afternoon  of  their 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  81 

arrival,  in  the  gardens,  hard  by  the  Cathe- 
dral, where  Lady  Deane  and  the  General 
were  doing  their  dut}^.  Sir  Roger  had  char- 
tered a  cab  and  gone  for  a  drive  on  the 
boulevards. 

"  And  we  shall  really  be  in  Paris  to-mor- 
row night?  "  said  Dora.  "And  in  England, 
I  hope,  six-and-thirty  hours  afterwards.  I 
want  papa  to  cross  the  next  evening.  Mr. 
Ellerton,  I  believe  we  shall  be  in  time." 

Charlie  said  nothing.  He  seemed  to  be 
engrossed  by  the  magnificent  view  before 
him. 

"  Well  ?  Have  you  nothing  to  say  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  It's  a  sin  to  rush  through  a  place  like 
this,"  he  observed.  "We  ought  to  stay  a 
week.  There's  no  end  to  see.  It's  an  edu- 
cation ! " 

By  way,  probably,  of  making  the  most  of 
his  brief  opportunity,  he  went  on  gazing, 
across  the  river  which  flowed  below,  now 
towards  the  heights  of  Mont  Ventoux,  now 
at  the  ramparts  of  Villeneuve.  Dora,  on 
the  other  hand,  fixed  pensive  eyes  on  his 
curly  hatless  head,  which  leant  forward  as 
he  rested  his  elbows  on  his  knees.  He  had 
6 


82  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

referred  to  the  attractions  of  Avignon  in 
tones  of  almost  overpowering  emotion. 

Presently  lie  turned  his  head  towards  her 
with  a  quick  jerk. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  in  time,"  he  said,  and, 
with  equal  rapidity,  he  returned  to  his  sur- 
vey of  Yilleneuve. 

Dora  made  no  answer,  unless  a  perplexed 
wrinkle  on  her  brow  might  serve  for  one. 
A  long  silence  followed.  It  was  broken  at 
last  by  Charlie.  He  left  the  landscape  with 
a  sigh  of  satisfaction,  as  though  he  could 
not  reproach  himself  with  having  neglected 
it,  and  directed  his  gaze  into  his  companion's 
eyes.  Dora  blushed  and  pulled  the  brim  of 
her  hat  a  little  lower  down  over  her  brow. 

"  What's  more,"  said  Charlie,  in  deliber- 
ate tones,  and  as  if  no  pause  had  occurred 
between  this  remark  and  his  last,  "  I  don't 
believe  you  do." 

Dora  started  and  straightened  herself  in 
her  seat ;  it  looked  as  if  the  rash  remark 
were  to  be  met  with  a  burst  of  indignation, 
but,  a  second  later,  she  leant  back  again 
and  smiled  scornfully. 

"  How  can  you  be  so  silly,  Mr.  Ellerton  ?  " 
she  asked. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  83 

"  We  both  of  us,"  pursued  Charlie,  "  see 
now  that  we  made  up  our  minds  to  be  very 
foolish ;  we  both  of  us  mistook  our  real  feel- 
ing's ;  we're  beginning- — at  least  I  began 
some  time  ago,  and  you're  beginning  now — 
to  understand  the  true  state  of  affairs." 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  you  mean,  and  I  ought 
to  be  very  angry,  I  suppose ;  but  it's  too  ab- 
surd." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  The  absurd  thing  is 
your  fancying  that  you  care  about  this  fel- 
low Ashforth." 

"  No,  you  must  really  stop,  you  must  in- 
deed.    I  don't " 

"  I  know  the  sort  of  fellow  he  is — a  dull 
dry  chap,  who  makes  love  as  if  he  was 
dancing  a  minuet." 

"  You're  quite  wrong." 

"  And  kisses  you  as  if  it  was  part  of  the 
church  service." 

This  last  description,  applied  to  John 
Ashforth's  manner  of  wooing,  had  enough  of 
aptness  to  stir  Dora  into  genuine  resent- 
ment. 

"  A  girl  doesn't  like  a  man  less  because 
he  respects  her ;  nor  more  because  he  ridi- 
cules better  men  than  himself." 


84  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Don't  be  angry.  I'm  only  saying  what's 
true.  Why  should  I  want  to  run  him 
down  ?  " 

"  I  suppose — well,  I  suppose  because " 

"Well?" 

"  You're  a  little  bit— but  I  don't  think  I 
ought  to  talk  about  it." 

"  Jealous,  you  were  going  to  say." 

"  Was  I  ?  " 

"  And  that  shows  you  know  what  I  mean." 

"  Well,  by  now  I  suppose  I  do.  I  can't 
help  your  doing  it  or  I  would." 

Charlie  moved  closer,  and  leaning  for- 
ward till  his  face  was  only  a  yard  from  hers, 
while  his  hand,  sliding  along  the  back  of  the 
seat,  almost  touched  her,  said  in  a  low  voice, 

"  Are  you  sure  you  would  ?  " 

Dora's  answer  was  a  laugh — a  laugh  with 
a  hint  of  nervousness  in  it.  Perhaps  she 
knew  what  was  in  it,  for  she  looked  away 
towards  the  river. 

"  Dolly,"  he  whispered,  "  shall  I  go  back 
to  Cannes?     Shall  I  ?  " 

Perhaps  the  audacity  of  this  per'  saltum 
advance  from  the  distance  of  Miss  "Bel- 
lairs  "  to  the  ineffable  assumption  involved 
in  "  Dolly  "  made  the  subject  of  it  dumb. 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  85 

"  I  will,  if  you  ask  me,"  lie  said,  as  she 
was  silent  for  a  space. 

Then  with  profile  towards  him  and  eyes 
away,  she  murmured, 

"  What  would  Miss  Travers  say  if  you 
turned  back  now  ?  " 

The  mention  of  Mary  did  not  on  this  oc- 
casion evoke  any  unseemly  words.  On  the 
contrary,  Charlie  smiled.  He  glanced  at 
his  companion.  He  glanced  behind  him 
and  round  him.  Then,  drilling  his  deep  de- 
sign into  the  semblance  of  an  uncontrolla- 
ble impulse,  he  seized  Dora's  hand  in  his 
and,  before  she  could  stir,  kissed  her  cheek. 

She  leapt  to  her  feet. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  "  she  cried. 

"•  How  could  I  help  it  ?  " 

"  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again.  No  gen- 
tleman would  have — oh,  I  do  hope  you're 
ashamed  of  yourself  !  " 

Her  words  evidently  struck  home.  With 
an  air  of  contrition  he  sank  on  the  seat. 

"  I'm  a  beast,"  he  said  ruefully.  "  You're 
quite  right,  Miss  Bellairs.  Don't  have  any- 
thing more  to  say  to  me.  I  wish  I  was — I 
wish  I  had  some — some  self-control — and 
self-respect,  you  know.     If  I  were  a  fellow 


86  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

like  Ashforth  now,  I  should  never  have 
done  that !  Of  course  you  can't  forgive 
me,"  and,  in  his  extremity  of  remorse,  he 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Dora  stood  beside  him.  She  made  one 
step  as  if  to  leave  him  ;  a  glance  at  him 
brought  her  back,  and  she  looked  down  at 
him  for  a  minute.  Presently  a  troubled 
doubtful  little  smile  appeared  on  her  face  ; 
when  she  realized  it  was  there,  she  promptly 
banished  it.  Alas!  It  was  too  late.  The 
rascal  had  been  peeping  through  his  fingers, 
and,  with  a  ringing  laugh,  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  caught  both  her  hands,  and  cried, 

"  Shocking,  wasn't  it  ?    Awful  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go,  Mr.  Ellerton." 

"  Must  I  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes." 

"  Why  ?    Why,  when  you ?  " 

"  Sir  Roger's  coming.    Look  behind  you." 

"  Oh,  the  deuce !  " 

An  instant  later  they  were  sitting  de- 
murely at  opposite  ends  of  the  seat,  inspect- 
ing Villeneuve  with  interest. 

In  another  moment  Deane  stood  before 
them,  puffing  a  cigarette,  and  wearing  an  ex- 
pression of  amiability  tempered  by  boredom. 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  87 

"Wonderful  old  place,  isn't  it,  Deane?" 
asked  Charlie. 

"  Suck  a  view,  Sir  Roger !  "  cried  Dora,  in 
almost  breathless  enthusiasm. 

"  You  certainly,"  assented  Deane,  "  do  see 
some  wonderful  sights  on  this  Promenade. 
I'm  glad  I  came  up.  The  air's  given  you 
quite  a  color,  Miss  Dora." 

"  It's  tea-time,"  declared  Dora  suddenly. 
"  Take  me  down  with  you,  Sir  Roger.  Mr. 
Ellerton,  go  and  tell  the  others  we're  going 
home  to  tea." 

Charlie  started  off,  and  Sir  Roger  strolled 
along  by  Miss  Bellairs's  side.  Presently 
he  said : 

"  Still  anxious  to  get  to  Paris  ?  " 

"Why  shouldn't  I  be?  "  she  asked  quickly. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  the  charms  of  Avi- 
gnon would  have  decided  you  to  linger. 
Haven't  you  been  tempted  ?  " 

Dora  glanced  at  him,  but  his  face  betrayed 
no  secondary  meaning. 

"  Tempted  ?  Oh,  perhaps,"  she  answered, 
with  the  same  nervous  little  laugh,  "  but  not 
quite  led  astray.    I'm  going  on." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MR.   AND  MRS.   ASHFORTH   (1) 

All  that  evening  Miss  Bellairs  was  not 
observed  —  and  Deane  watched  her  very 
closely — to  address  a  word  to  Charlie  Eller- 
ton  ;  even  "  good-night "  was  avoided  by  a 
premature  disappearance  and  unexpected 
failure  to  return.  Perhaps  it  was  part  of 
the  same  policy  of  seclusion  which  made 
her  persuade  Lady  Deane  to  travel  to  Paris 
with  her  in  one  compartment  and  relegate 
the  men  to  another — a  proposal  which  the 
banished  accepted  by  an  enthusiastic  major- 
ity of  two  to  one.  The  General  foresaw  an 
infinity  of  quiet  naps  and  Deane  unin- 
terrupted smoking ;  Charlie  alone  chafed 
against  the  necessary  interruption  of  his 
bold  campaign,  but,  in  face  of  Dora's  calm 
coldness  of  aspect,  he  did  not  dare  to  lift 
up  his  voice. 

Lady  Deane  was  so  engrossed  in  the  study 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  89 

— or  the  search  for  opportunities  of  study — 
of  sides  of  life  with  which  she  was  unfamil- 
iar as  to  be,  for  the  most  part,  blind  to  what 
took  place  immediately  around  her.  Gen- 
eral Bellairs  himself  (who  vaguely  supposed 
that  some  man  might  try  to  make  love  to 
his  daughter  five  years  hence,  and  there- 
upon be  promptly  sent  off  with  a  flea  in  his 
ear)  was  not  more  unconscious  than  she  that 
there  was,  had  been,  or  might  be  anything, 
as  the  phrase  runs,  "  between  "  the  two  junior 
members  of  the  party.  Lady  Deane  had  no 
hints  to  give  and  no  questions  to  ask  ;  she 
seated  herself  placidly  in  a  comer  and  be- 
gan to  write  in  a  large  note-book.  She  had 
been  unwillingly  compelled  to  "  scamp " 
Marseilles,  but,  as  she  wrote,  she  found  that 
the  rough  notes  she  was  copying,  aided  by 
fresh  memory,  supplied  her  with  an  ample 
fund  of  material.  Alternately  she  smiled 
contentedly  to  herself,  and  gazed  out  of  the 
window  with  a  preoccupied  air.  Clearly 
a  plot  was  brewing,  and  the  author  was 
grateful  to  Dora  for  restricting  her  inter- 
ruptions to  an  occasional  impatient  sigh  and 
the  taking  up  and  dropping  again  of  her 
Tauchnitz. 


90  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

With  the  men  tongues  moved  more. 

"  Well,  General,"  said  Deane,  "  what's 
Miss  Dora's  ultimatum  about  your  staying 
in  Paris  ?  " 

Charlie  pricked  up  his  ears  and  buried 
his  face  behind  La  Vie  Parisienne. 

"  You'll  think  me  very  weak,  Deane,"  re- 
joined the  General,  with  an  apologetic  laugh, 
"  but  I've  promised  to  go  straight  on  if  she 
wants  me  to." 

"  And  does  she  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  child  has  got  in 
her  head,  but  she  says  she'll  tell  me  when 
she  gets  to  Paris.  We  shall  have  a  day  with 
you  anyhow ;  I  don't  think  she's  so  set  on 
not  staying  as  she  was,  but  I  don't  profess 
to  understand  her  fancies.  Still,  as  you  see, 
I  yield  to  them." 

"  Man's  task  in  the  world,"  said  Deane. 
"  Eh,  Charlie  ?  What  are  you  hiding  be- 
hind that  paper  for  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  looking  at  the  pictures." 

"  Quite  enough  too.  You're  going  to  stay 
in  Paris,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  know  yet,  old  fellow.  It  depends 
on  whether  I  get  a  letter  calling  me  back  or 
not." 


THE  WHEEL   OF  LOVE  91 

"  Hang-  it,  one  might  as  well  be  in  a  house 
where  the  shooting  turns  out  a  fraud.  No- 
body knows  that  he  won't  have  a  wire  any 
morning  and  have  to  go  back  to  town.  My 
wife'll  be  furious  if  you  desert  her,  General." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  it  won't  come  to  that." 

"  I  hope  awfully  that  I  shall  be  able  to 
stay,"  said  Charlie,  with  obvious  sincerity. 

"  Then,"  observed  Deane  with  a  slight 
smile,  "  if  the  General  and  Miss  Bellairs 
leave  us  you  can  take  my  wife  about." 

"  I  should  think  you  might  take  her  your- 
self," and  he  gently  kicked  Deane.  He  was 
afraid  of  arousing  the  General's  dormant 
suspicions. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  they  arrived  in 
Paris,  but  the  faithful  Laing  was  on  the 
platform  to  meet  them,  and  received  them 
with  a  warm  greeting.  While  the  luggage 
was  being  collected  by  Deane's  man,  they 
stood  and  talked  on  the  platform.  Pres- 
ently the  General,  struck  by  a  sudden 
thought,  asked : 

"  I  suppose  nothing  came  for  us  at 
Cannes,  eh,  Laing  ?  You  said  you'd  bring 
anything  on,  you  know." 

Laing  interrupted  a  pretty  speech  which 


92  COMEDIES   OF  COURTSHIP 

he  was  trying  to  direct  into  Dora's  inatten- 
tive ears. 

"  Beg  pardon,  General  ?  " 

"  No  letters  for  any  of  us  before  you  left 
Cannes  ?  " 

"  No,  Gen — "  he  began,  but  suddenly 
stopped.  His  mouth  remained  open  and  his 
glass  fell  from  his  eye. 

The  General,  not  waiting  to  hear  more 
than  the  first  word,  had  rushed  off  to  hail 
a  cab  and  Deane  was  escorting  his  wife, 
Dora  and  Charlie  stood  waiting  for  the  un- 
finished speech. 

The  end  came  slowly  and  with  a  prodig- 
ious emphasis  of  despair. 

"  Oh,  by  Jove ! " 

"  Well,  Mr.  Laing?  "  said  Dora. 

"The  morning  you  left — just  after — there 
were  two  telegrams." 

"  For  me  ?  "  said  each  of  his  auditors. 

"  One  for  each  of  you,  but ■" 

"  Oh,  give  me  mine." 

"  Hand  over  mine,  old  chap." 

"  I — I  haven't  got  'em." 

"What?" 

"  I — I'm  awfully  sorry,  I — I  forgot  'em." 

"  Oh,  how  tiresome  of  you,  Mr.  Laing !  " 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  93 

"  Send  'em  round  first  thing-  to-morrow, 
Laing." 

"  But — but  I  don't  know  where  I  put  'em. 
I  know  I  laid  'em  down.  Then  I  took  'em 
up.  Then  I  put  'em — where  the  deuce  did 
I  put  'em  ?  Here's  a  go,  Miss  Bellairs ! 
I  say,  I  am  an  ass !  " 

No  contradiction  assailed  him.  His  vic- 
tims glared  reproachfully  at  him. 

"  I  must  have  left  them  at  Cannes.  I'll 
wire  first  thing  in  the  morning,  Miss  Bel- 
lairs ;  I'll  get  up  as  soon  as  ever  the  office  is 
open.     I  say,  do  forgive  me." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Laing,  I'll  try,  but " 

"  Laing  !  Here  !  My  wife  wants  you," 
shouted  Sir  Roger,  and  the  criminal,  happy 
to  escape,  ran  away,  leaving  Dora  and  Char- 
lie alone. 

"  They  must  have  been  from  them,"  mur- 
mured Dora. 

"  No  doubt ;  and  that  fool  Laing -" 

"  What  has  he  done  with  them  ?  " 

"  Lit  his  pipe  with  them,  I  expect." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  What— what  do  you  think  they  said,  Mr. 
Ellerton  ?  " 


94  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  Perhaps  that  the  mar- 
riage  was  off ! " 

"  Oh  !  "  escaped  from  Dora. 

"  Perhaps  that  it  was  going  on." 

"It's  worse  than  ever.  They  may  have 
asked  for  answers." 

"  Probably." 

"  And  they  won't  have  written  here  !  " 

"  Sure  not  to  have." 

"  And — and  I  sha'n't  know  what  to  do. 
I — I  believe  it  was  to  say  he  had  broken  off 
the  marriage." 

"  Is  the  wish  father  to  the  thought  ?  " 

The  lights  of  the  station  flickered,  but 
Charlie  saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  a  hasty  un- 
premeditated gesture  of  protest. 

"  Dolly  !  "  he  whispered. 

"  Hush,  hush !  How  can  you  now — be- 
fore we  know  ?  " 

"  The  cab's  waiting,"  called  Deane.  "  Come 
along." 

They  got  in  in  silence.  The  General  and 
the  Deanes  went  first,  and  the  three  young 
people  followed  in  a  second  vehicle.  It  was 
but  just  twelve,  and  the  boulevards  were  gay 
and  full  of  people. 

Suddenly,  as  they  were  near  the  Opera, 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  95 

they  saw  the  tall  figure  of  an  unmistakable 
Englishman  walking  away  from  them  down 
the  Avenue  de  l'Opera.  Dora  clutched  Char- 
lie's arm  with  a  convulsive  grip. 

"  Hullo,  what's  the — "  he  began,  but  a 
second  pinch  enforced  silence. 

"  See  that  chap  ?  "  asked  Laing,  pointing 
to  the  figure.     "  He's  at  my  hotel." 

"Is  he  ?  "  said  Dora  in  a  faint  voice. 

"  Yes,  I've  got  a  good  deal  of  amusement 
out  of  him.  He  oughtn't  to  be  out  so  late 
though,  and  by  himself,  too ! " 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  Charlie. 

"  I  don't  know  his  name." 

"  And  why  oughtn't  he  to  be  out  ?  " 

"  Because  he's  on  his  honeymoon." 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Dora. 

"  Just  married,"  explained  Laing.  "  Wife's 
a  tallish  girl,  fair,  rather  good  -  looking ; 
looks  standoffish  though." 

"  You — you're  sure  they're  married,  Mr. 
Laing  ? "  gasped  Dora,  and  Charlie,  in 
whom  her  manner  had  awakened  a  suspi- 
cion of  the  truth,  also  waited  eagerly  for  the 
reply. 

"  What,  Miss  Bellairs  ?  "  asked  Laing  in 
surprise. 


96  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Oh,  I  mean — I  mean  you  haven't  made  a 
mistake  ?  " 

"  Well,  they're  together  all  day,  and  no- 
body's with  them  except  a  lady's-maid.  I 
should  think  that's  good  enough." 

With  a  sigh  Dora  sank  back  against  the 
cushions.  They  were  at  the  hotel  now  ;  the 
others  had  already  entered,  and,  bidding 
Laing  a  hearty  good  -  night,  Dora  ran  in, 
followed  closely  by  Charlie.  He  did  not 
overtake  her  before  she  found  her  father. 

"  Well,  Dolly,"  said  the  General,  "  there's 
no  letter." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Dolly,  "  I'll  stay  as  long  as 
ever  you  like,  papa." 

"That's  right,"  said  Deane.  "And  you, 
Charlie  ?  " 

Charlie  took  his  cue. 

"A  month  if  you  like." 

"  Capital !  Now  for  a  wash — come  along, 
Maud — and  then  supper !  " 

Dora  lingered  behind  the  others,  and 
Charlie  with  her.  Directly  they  were  alone, 
he  asked : 

"What  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

She  sat  down,  still  panting  with  agitation. 

"  Why — why,  that  man  we  saw — the  man 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  97 

Mr.  Laing  says  is  on  his  honeymoon,  is — 
is " 

"  Yes,  yes  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ashforth !  " 

"  Dolly !  And  his  wife  !  By  Jove  !  It's 
an  exact  description  of  Mary  Travers  I  " 

"  The  telegrams  were  to  say  the  marriage 
was  to  be  at  once." 

"  Yes,  and — they're  married  !  " 

"Yes!" 

A  short  pause  marked  the  astounding  con- 
clusion. Then  Charlie  came  up  very  close 
and  whispered : 

"  Are  you  broken-hearted,  Dolly  ?  " 

She  turned  her  face  away  with  a  blush. 

"  Are  you,  Dolly  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  much  ashamed  of  myself,"  she 
murmured.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Ellerton,  not  just 
yet ! "  and  in  deference  to  her  entreaty  Char- 
lie had  the  grace  to  postpone  what  he  was 
about  to  do. 

When  the  supper  was  ready  Sir  Roger 
Deane  looked  round  the  table  inquiringly. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  what  is  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  Champagne — champagne  in  magnums ! " 
cried  Charlie  Ellerton,  with  a  ringing  laugh. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MR.   AND  MRS.   ASHFORTH   (2) 

Miss  Bussey  was  much  relieved  when  the 
doctor  pronounced  her  convalescent  and  al- 
lowed her  to  come  downstairs.  To  fall  ill  on 
an  outing  is  always  exasperating-,  but  be- 
yond that  she  felt  that  her  enforced  seclu- 
sion was  particularly  unfortunate  at  the  mo- 
ment. Here  were  two  young  people,  not 
engaged  nor  going  to  be  engaged  to  one  an- 
other ;  and  for  three  days  or  more  circum- 
stances had  abandoned  them  to  an  inevitable 
and  unchaperoned  tete-a-tete !  Mary  made 
light  of  it ;  she  relied  on  the  fraternal  re- 
lationship, but  that  was,  after  all,  a  fiction, 
quite  incapable,  in  Miss  Bussey's  opinion, 
of  supporting  the  strain  to  which  it  had 
been  subjected.  Besides  Mary's  sincerity 
appeared  doubtful ;  the  kind  girl,  anxious 
to  spare  her  aunt  worry,  made  light  of  the 
difficulties  of  her  position,  but  Miss  Bussey 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  99 

detected  a  restlessness  in  her  manner  which 
clearly  betrayed  uneasiness.  Here,  of  course, 
Miss  Bussey  was  wrong- ;  neither  Mary  nor 
John  were  the  least  self-conscious  ;  they  felt 
no  embarrassment,  but,  poor  creatures,  wore 
out  their  spirits  in  a  useless  vigil  over  the 
letter-rack. 

Miss  Bussey  was  restored  to  active  life  on 
the  morning  after  the  party  from  Cannes  ar- 
rived in  Paris,  and  she  hastened  to  empha- 
size the  fact  of  her  return  to  complete  health 
by  the  unusual  effort  of  coming  down  to 
breakfast.  She  was  in  high  feather,  and  her 
cheery  conversation  lifted,  to  some  extent, 
the  gloom  which  had  settled  on  her  young 
friends.  While  exhorting  to  patience  she 
was  full  of  hope,  and  dismissed  as  chimeri- 
cal all  the  darker  explanations  which  the 
disconsolate  lovers  invented  to  account  for 
the  silence  their  communications  had  met 
with.  Under  her  influence  the  breakfast- 
table  became  positively  cheerful,  and  at  last 
all  the  three  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh  at  one 
of  the  old  lady's  little  jokes. 

At  this  moment  Arthur  Laing  entered  the 
room.  His  brow  was  clouded.  He  had 
searched  his  purse,  his  cigar-case,  the  lining 


100  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

of  his  hat — in  fact  every  depository  where  a 
careful  man  would  be  likely  to  bestow  docu- 
ments whose  existence  he  wished  to  re- 
member ;  as  no  careful  man  would  put  such 
things  in  the  pocket  of  his  "  blazer,"  he  had 
not  searched  there  ;  thus  the  telegrams  had 
not  appeared,  and  the  culprit  was  looking 
forward,  with  some  alarm,  to  the  reception 
which  would  await  him  when  he  "  turned 
up "  to  lunch  with  his  friends,  as  he  had 
promised  to  do.  Hardly,  however,  had  he 
sat  down  to  his  coffee  when  his  sombre 
thoughts  were  cleared  away  by  the  extraor- 
dinary spectacle  of  young  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Asb- 
forth  hobnobbing  with  their  maid,  the  latter 
lady  appearing  quite  at  home  and  leading 
the  gayety  and  the  conversation.  Laing  laid 
down  his  roll  and  his  knife  and  looked  at 
them  in  undisguised  amazement. 

For  a  moment  doubt  of  his  cherished  the- 
ory began  to  assail  his  mind.  He  heard  the 
old  lady  call  Ashf  orth  "  John ; "  that  was  a 
little  strange,  and  it  was  rather  strange 
that  John  answered  by  saying  :  "That  must 
be  as  you  wish ;  I  am  entirely  at  your  dis- 
posal." And  yet,  reflected  Laing,  was  it 
very  strange,  after  all  ?     In  his  own  family 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  101 

they  had  an  old  retainer  who  called  all  the 
children,  whatever  their  age,  by  their  Chris- 
tian names,  and  was  admitted  to  a  degree  of 
intimacy  hardly  distinguishable  from  that 
accorded  to  a  relative. 

Laing,  weighing  the  evidence  pro  and 
contra,  decided  that  there  was  an  over- 
whelming balance  in  favor  of  his  old  view, 
and  dismissed  the  matter  with  the  com- 
ment that,  if  it  ever  befell  him  to  go  on  a 
wedding*-tour,  he  would  ask  his  wife  to  take 
a  maid  with  rather  less  claims  on  her  kind- 
ness and  his  toleration. 

That  same  morning  the  second  pair  of 
telegrams,  forwarded  by  post  from  Cannes, 
duly  arrived.  Dora  and  Charlie,  reading 
them  in  the  light  of  their  recent  happy  in- 
formation, found  them  most  kind  and  com- 
forting, although  in  reality  they,  apart  from 
their  missing  forerunners,  told  the  recipients 
nothing  at  all.  John's  ran  :  "  Am  in  Paris  at 
European.  Please  write.  Anxious  to  hear. 
Everything  decided  for  the  best. — John." 
Mary's  to  Charlie  was  even  briefer ;  it  said, 
"Am  here  at  European.  Why  no  answer  to 
last  ?  " 

"  It's  really  very  kind  of  Mr.  Ashforth," 


102  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

said  Dora  to  Charlie,  as  tliey  strolled  in 
the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  "  to  make  such 
a  point  of  what  I  think.  I  expect  the  wire 
that  stupid  Mr.  Laing  lost  was  just  to  tell 
me  the  date  of  the  marriage." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it.  Miss  Tr— Mrs.  Ash- 
forth's  wire  to  me  makes  that  clear.  They 
want  to  hear  that  we're  not  desperately  un- 
happy.    Well,  we  aren't,  are  we,  Dolly  ?  " 

"  Well,  perhaps  not." 

"  Isn't  it  extraordinary  how  we  mistook 
our  feelings  ?  Of  course,  though,  it's  natu- 
ral in  you.  You  had  never  been  through 
anything  of  the  sort  before.  How  could 
you  tell  whether  it  was  the  real  thing  or 
not?" 

Dora  shot  a  glance  out  of  the  corner  of 
her  eye  at  her  lover,  but  did  not  disclaim 
the  innocence  he  imputed  to  her ;  she  knew 
men  liked  to  think  that,  and  why  shouldn't 
they,  poor  things  ?  She  seized  on  his  im- 
plied admission  and  carried  the  war  into  his 
country. 

"  But  you, — you  who  are  so  experienced 
— how  did  you  come  to  make  such  a  mis- 
take ?  " 

Charlie  was  not  at  a  loss. 


THE   WIT  EEL   OF  LOVE  103 

"It  wasn't  a  mistake  then"  he  said.  "I 
was  quite  rig-lit  then.  Mary  Travers  was 
about  the  nicest  girl  I  had  ever  seen.  I 
thought  her  as  charming  as  a  girl  could 
be." 

"  Oh,  you  did  !    Then  why " 

"  My  eyes  have  been  opened  since  then." 

"  What  did  that  ?  " 

"  Why  don't  you  ever  pronounce  my 
name  ?  " 

"Never  mind  your  name.  What  opened 
your  eyes  ?  " 

"  Why,  yours,  of  course." 

"  What  nonsense !  They're  very  nice 
about  it,  aren't  they  ?  Do  you  think  we 
ought  to  call  ?  " 

"  Shall  you  feel  it  awkward  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  little.  Shan't  you?  Still  we 
must  let  them  know  we're  here.  Will  you 
write  to  Mrs.  Ashforth  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I'd  better.  After  lunch  '11  do, 
won't  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  I'll  write  a  note  to  him. 
I  expect  they  won't  be  staying  here  long." 

"I  hope  not.  Hullo,  it's  a  quarter  past 
twelve.  We  must  be  getting  back.  Laing's 
coming  to  lunch." 


104  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Where  are  the  Deanes  ?  " 

"  Lady  Deane's  gone  to  Belleville  with 
your  father  to  see  slums,  and  Roger's  play- 
ing tennis  with  Laing.  He  said  we  weren't 
to  wait  lunch.     Are  you  hungry,  Dolly  ?  " 

"  Not  very.  It  seems  only  an  hour  since 
breakfast." 

"  How  charming  of  you !  We've  been 
walking  here  since  ten  o'clock." 

"  Mr.  Ellerton,  will  you  be  serious  for  a 
minute  ?  I  want  to  say  something  impor- 
tant. When  we  meet  the  Ashforths  there 
mustn't  be  a  word  said  about — about — you 
know." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't !  So  soon !  Surely  you 
see  that.  Why,  it  would  be  hardly  civil  to 
them,  would  it,  apart  from  anything  else  ?  " 

"  Well,  it  might  look  rather  casual." 

"  And  I  positively  couldn't  face  John 
Ashforth.     You  promise,  don't  you  ?  " 

"It's  a  nuisance,  because,  you  see, 
Dolly " 

"  You're  not  to  get  into  the  habit  of  say- 
ing '  Dolly.'    At  least  not  yet." 

"Presently?" 

"  If  you're  good.     Now  promise  ! " 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  105 

"All  right." 

"  We're  not  engaged." 

"All  right." 

"  Nor  thinking  of  it." 

"  Rather  not." 

"  That's  very  nice  of  you,  and  when  the 
Ashforths  are  gone " 

"  I  shall  be  duly  rewarded  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we'll  see.  Do  come  along.  Papa 
hates  being  kept  waiting  for  his  meals,  and 
they  must  have  finished  their  slums  long 
ago." 

They  found  Lady  Deane  and  the  General 
waiting  for  them,  and  the  latter  proposed 
an  adjournment  to  a  famous  restaurant  near 
the  Opera.  Thither  they  repaired,  and  or- 
dered their  lunch. 

"  Deane  and  Laing  will  find  out  where 
we've  gone  and  follow,"  said  the  General. 
"  We  won't  wait,"  and  he  resumed  his  con- 
versation with  Lady  Deane  on  the  events  of 
the  morning. 

A  moment  later  the  absentees  came  in ; 
Sir  Roger  in  his  usual  leisurely  fashion, 
Laing  hurriedly.  The  latter  held  in  his 
hand  two  telegrams,  or  the  crumpled  debris 
thereof.    He  rushed  up    to  the  table  and 


106  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

panted  out,  "  Found  'em  in  the  pocket  of 
my  blazer — must  have  put  'em  there — stupid 
ass — never  thought  of  it — put  it  on  for  ten- 
nis— awfully  sorry." 

Wasting  no  time  in  reproaches,  Dora  and 
Charlie  grasped  their  recovered  property. 

"  Excuse  me  !  "  they  cried  simultaneously, 
and  opened  the  envelopes.  A  moment  later 
both  leant  back  in  their  chairs,  the  pictures 
of  helpless  bewilderment. 

Dora  had  read :  "  Marriage  broken  off. 
Coming  to  you  28th.  Write  directions — 
European,  Paris." 

Charlie  had  read  :  "  Engagement  at  end. 
Aunt  and  I  coming  to  Paris — European,  on 
28th.     Can  you  meet  ?  " 

Lady  Deane  was  writing  in  her  note-book. 
The  General,  Sir  Roger,  and  Laing  were 
busy  with  the  waiter,  the  menu,  and  the 
wine-list.  Quick  as  thought  the  lovers  ex- 
changed telegrams.  They  read,  and  looked 
at  one  another. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  "  whispered  Dora. 

"  You  never  saw  anything  like  the  lives 
those  ragpickers  lead,  Dora,"  observed  Lady 
Deane,  looking  up  from  her  task.  "  I  was 
talking  to  one  this  morning-  and  he  said " 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  107 

"Maitre  d'liotel  for  me,"  broke  in  Sir 
Koger. 

"  I  haven't  a  notion,"  murmured  Charlie. 

"  Look  here,  what's  your  liquor,  Laing  ?  " 

"  Anything  ;  with  this  thirst  on  me " 

"  There  are  ample  materials  for  a  revolu- 
tion more  astonishing1  and  sanguinary " 

"  Nonsense,  General,  you  must  have  some- 
thing to  drink." 

"  Can  they  have  changed  their  minds 
again,  Dolly  ?  " 

"  They  must  have,  if  Mr.  Laing  is " 

"  Dry  ?  I  should  think  I  was.  So  would 
you  be,  if  you'd  been  playing  tennis." 

Laing  cut  across  the  currents  of  conversa- 
tion : 

"  Hope  no  harm  done,  Miss  Bellairs, 
about  that  wire  ?  " 

"  I— I— I  don't  think  so." 

"  Or  yours,  Charlie  ?  " 

Charlie  took  a  hopeful  view. 

"Upon  my  honor,  Laing,  I'm  glad  you 
hid  it." 

"  Oh,  I  see!  "  cried  Laing.  "  Tip  for  the 
wrong  'un,  eh,  and  too  late  to  put  it  on  now  ?  " 

"You're  not  far  off,"  answered  Charlie 
Ellerton. 


108  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Roger,  is  it  to-night  that  the  General  is 
going  to  take  me  to  the " 

"Hush!  Not  before  Miss  Bellairs,  my 
dear!  Consider  her  filial  feelings.  Tou 
and  the  General  must  make  a  quiet  bolt  of 
it.      We're  only  going  to  the  Palais-Royal" 

The  arrival  of  fish  brought  a  momentary 
pause,  but  the  first  mouthful  was  hardly 
swallowed  when  Arthur  Laing  started, 
hunted  hastily  for  his  eyeglass,  and  stuck  it 
in  his  eye. 

"  Yes,  it  is  them,"  said  he.  "  See,  Charlie, 
that  table  over  there.  They've  got  their 
backs  to  us,  but  I  can  see  'em  in  the  mirror." 

"  See  who  ?  "  asked  Charlie  in  an  irritable 
tone. 

"  Why,  those  honeymooners.  I  say,  Lady 
Deane,  it's  a  queer  thing  to  have  a  lady's- 
maid  to  breakf Why,   by  Jove,    she's 

with  them  now  !     Look !  " 

His  excited  interest  aroused  the  attention 
of  the  whole  party,  and  they  looked  across 
the  long  room. 

"  Ashforth's  their  name,"  concluded  Laing. 
"  I  heard  the  Abigail  call  him  Ashforth ; 
and  the  lady  is " 

He  was  interrupted  by  the   clatter  of  a 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  109 

knife  and  fork  falling-  on  a  plate.  He  turned 
in  the  direction  whence  the  sound  came. 

Dora  Bellairs  leant  back  in  her  chair,  her 
hands  in  her  lap ;  Charlie  Ellerton  had 
hidden  himself  behind  the  wine-list.  Lady 
Deane,  her  husband,  and  the  General  gazed 
inquiringly  at  Dora. 

At  the  same  instant  there  came  a  shrill 
little  cry  from  the  other  end  of  the  room. 
The  mirror  had  served  Mary  Travers  as 
well  as  it  had  Laing.  For  a  moment  she 
spoke  hastily  to  her  companion ;  then  she 
and  John  rose,  and,  with  radiant  smiles  on 
their  faces,  advanced  toward  their  friends. 
The  long  -  expected  meeting  had  come  at 
last. 

Dora  sat  still,  in  consternation.  Charlie, 
peeping  out  from  behind  \n&.mmu,  saw  the 
approach. 

"  Now,  in  Heaven's  name,"  he  groaned, 
"  are  they  married  or  aren't  they  ?  "  and 
having  said  this  he  awaited  the  worst. 


CHAPTEE  X 

MR.   AND  NOT  MES.  ASHFORTH 

Suum  cuique  :  to  the  Man  belongeth  cour- 
age in  great  things,  but  in  affairs  of  small 
moment  Woman  is  pre-eminent.  Charlie 
Ellerton  was  speechless ;  Dora  Bellairs,  by 
a  supreme  effort,  rose  on  shaking  legs  and 
advanced  with  outstretched  hands  to  meet 
John  Ashforth. 

"  Mr.  Ashforth,  I  declare  !  Who  would 
have  thought  of  meeting  you  here  ?  "  she  ex- 
claimed ;  and  she  added  in  an  almost  im- 
perceptible, mysterious  whisper,  "  Hush  !  " 

John  at  once  understood  that  he  was  to 
make  no  reference  to  the  communications 
which  had  resulted  in  this  happy  meeting. 
He  expressed  a  friendly  gratification  in  ap- 
propriate words.  Dora  began  to  breathe 
again ;  everything  was  passing  off  well. 
Suddenly  she  glanced  from  John  to  Mary. 
Mary  stood  alone,  about  three  yards  from 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  111 

the  table,  gazing  at  Charlie.  Charlie  sat  as 
though  paralyzed.  He  would  ruin  every- 
thing. 

"  Mr.  Ellerton,"  she  called  sharply.  Char- 
lie started  up,  but  before  he  could  reach 
Dora's  side,  the  latter  had  turned  to  Mary 
and  was  holding  out  a  friendly  hand.  Mary 
responded  with  alacrity. 

"Miss  Bellairs,  isn't  it?  We  ought  to 
know  one  another.  I'm  so  glad  to  meet 
you." 

Charlie  was  by  them  now. 

"And  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Ellerton?" 
went  on  Mary,  rivalling  Dora  in  composure. 
And  she  also  added  a  barely  visible  and 
quite  inaudible  "  Hush  !  " 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  asked  Deane  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Their  name's  Ashforth,"  answered  Laing. 

"  God  bless  my  soul !  "  exclaimed  the 
General.  "  I  remember  him  now.  We  made 
his  acquaintance  at  Interlaken,  but  his  name 
had  slipped  from  my  memory.  And  that's  his 
wife  ?  Fine  girl,  too.  I  must  speak  to  him." 
And  full  of  kindly  intent  he  bustled  off  and 
shook  John  warmly  by  the  hand. 

"My   dear  Ashforth,   delighted   to  meet 


112  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

you  again,  and  under  such  delightful  condi- 
tions, too  !  Ah,  well,  it  only  comes  once  in 
a  lifetime,  does  it  ? — in  your  case  anyhow,  I 
hope.  I  see  Dora  has  introduced  herself. 
You  must  present  me.     When  was  it  ?  " 

Portions  of  this  address  puzzled  John  con- 
siderably, but  he  thought  it  best  to  do  as  he 
was  told. 

"  Mary,"  he  said,  "  let  me  introduce  Gen- 
eral Bellairs — Miss  Bellairs's  father — to  you. 
General  Bell " 

The  General  interrupted  him  by  address- 
ing Mary  with  much  effusion. 

"  Delighted  to  meet  you.  Ah,  you  know 
our  young  friend  Ellerton  ?  Everybody 
does,  it  seems  to  me.  Come,  you  must  join 
us.  Waiter,  two  more  places.  Lady  Deane, 
let  me  introduce  Mr.  Ashforth.  They're  on 
their " 

He  paused.  An  inarticulate  sound  had 
proceeded  from  Mary's  lips. 

"  Beg  pardon  ?  "  said  the  General. 

A  pin  might  have  been  heard  to  drop, 
while  Mary,  recovering  herself,  said  coldly  : 

"  I  think  there's  some  mistake.  I'm  not 
Mrs.  Ashforth." 

"  Gad,  it's  the  old  'un ! "  burst  in  a  stage 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  113 

whisper  from  Arthur  Laing,  who  seemed  de- 
termined that  John  Ashforth  should  have  a 
wife. 

The  General  looked  to  his  daughter  for 
an  explanation.  Dora  dared  not  show  the 
emotion  pictured  on  her  face,  and  her  back 
was  towards  the  party.  Charlie  Ellerton 
was  staring-  with  a  vacant  look  at  the  lady 
who  was  not  Mrs.  Ashforth.  The  worst  had 
happened. 

John  came  to  the  rescue.  With  an  awk- 
ward laugh  he  said  : 

"  Oh,  you — you  attribute  too  much  happi- 
ness to  me.  This  is  Miss  Travers.  I — I — 
Her  aunt,  Miss  Bussey,  and  she  have  kindly 
allowed  me  to  join  their  travelling  party. 
Miss  Bussey  is  at  that  table,"  and  he  pointed 
to  "  the  old  'un." 

Perhaps  it  was  as  well  that  at  this  mo- 
ment the  pent-up  feelings  which  the  situa- 
tion, and  above  all  the  remorseful  horror 
with  which  Laing  was  regarding  his  ficti- 
tious lady's-maid,  overcame  Roger  Deane. 
He  burst  into  a  laugh.  After  a  moment  the 
General  followed  heartily.  Laing  was  the 
next,  bettering  his  examples  in  his  poignant 
mirth.     Sir  Roger  sprang  up. 


114  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Come,  Miss  Travers,"he  said,  "  sit  down. 
Here's  the  fellow  who  gave  you  your  new 
name.  Blame  him,"  and  he  indicated  Laing. 
Then  he  cried,  "  General,  we  must  have  Miss 
Bussey,  too." 

The  combined  party,  however,  was  not, 
when  fully  constituted  by  the  addition  of 
Miss  Bussey,  a  success.  Two  of  its  mem- 
bers ate  nothing-  and  alternated  between 
gloomy  silence  and  forced  gayety ;  who 
these  were  may  well  be  guessed.  Mary  and 
John  found  it  difficult  to  surmount  their  em- 
barrassment at  the  contretemps  which  had  at- 
tended the  introduction,  or  their  perplexity 
over  the  cause  of  it.  Laing  was  on  thorns 
lest  his  distributions  of  parts  and  stations  in 
life  should  be  disclosed.  The  only  bright 
feature  was  the  congenial  feeling  which  ap- 
peared at  once  to  unite  Miss  Bussey  and 
Sir  Roger  Deane.  They  sat  together,  and, 
aided  by  the  General's  geniality  and  Lady 
Deane's  supramundane  calm,  carried  the 
meal  to  a  conclusion  without  an  actual  break- 
down, ending  up  with  a  friendly  wrangle 
over  the  responsibility  for  the  bill.  Fi- 
nally it  was  on  Sir  Roger's  proposal  that 
they  all  agreed  to  meet  at  five  o'clock  and 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  115 

take  coffee,  or  what  they  would,  together  at 
a  cafe  by  the  water  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne. 
With  this  understanding  the  party  broke 
up. 

Dora  and  Charlie,  lagging  behind,  found 
themselves  alone.  They  hardly  dared  to 
look  at  one  another,  lest  their  composure 
should  fail. 

"  They're  not  married,"  said  Charlie. 
i    "No." 

"They've  broken  it  off!" 

"  Yes." 

"  Because  of  us." 

"Yes." 

"  While  we " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  in  all  my  life,  I  never " 

"  Oh,  do  be  quiet." 

"  What  an  infernal  ass  that  fellow 
Laing " 

"  Do  you  think  they  saw  anything  ?  " 

"  No.    I  half  wish  they  had." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Ellerton,  what  shall  we  do? 
They're  still  in  love  with  us  !  " 

"  Rather.     They've  been  waiting  for  us." 

Dora  entered  the  hotel  gates  and  sank 
into  a  chair  in  the  court-yard. 


116  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Well  ?  "  she  asked  helplessly  ;  but  Char- 
lie had  no  suggestion  to  offer. 

"  How  could  they  ?  "  she  broke  out  indig- 
nantly. "  How  could  they  break  off  their 
marriage  at  the  last  moment  like  that  ? 
They — they  were  as  good  as  married.  It's 
really  hardly — people  should  know  their 
own  minds." 

She  caught  sight  of  a  rueful  smile  on 
Charlie's  face. 

"  Oh,  I  know,  but  it's  different,"  she  add- 
ed impatiently.  "  One  expects  it  of  you,  but 
I  didn't  expect  it  of  John  Ashforth." 

"  And  of  yourself  ?  "  he  asked  softly. 

"  It's  all  your  fault,  you  wicked  boy,"  she 
answered . 

Charlie  sighed  heavily. 

"We  must  break  it  to  them,"  said  he. 
"  Mary  will  understand  ;  she  has  such  deli- 
cacy of  feeling  that " 

"  You're  always  praising  that  girl.  I  be- 
lieve you're  in  love  with  her  still." 

"  Well,  you  as  good  as  told  me  I  wasn't 
fit  to  black  Ashforth's  boots." 

"  Anyhow  he  wouldn't  have — have — have 
tried  to  make  a  girl  care  for  him  when  he 
knew  she  cared  for  somebody  else." 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  117 

"  Hang-  it,  it  seems  to  me  Ashforth  isn't 
exactly  immaculate.  Why,  in  Switzer- 
land  " 

"  Never  mind  Switzerland,  Mr.  Ellerton, 
please." 

A  silence  ensued.  Then  Charlie  remarked, 
with  a  reproachful  glance  at  Dora's  averted 
face, 

"  And  this  is  the  sequel  to  Avignon  !  I 
shouldn't  have  thought  a  girl  could  change 
so  in  forty-eight  hours." 

Dora  said  nothing.  She  held  her  head 
very  high  in  the  air  and  looked  straight  in 
front  of  her. 

"  When  you  gave  me  that  kiss — "  resumed 
Charlie. 

Now  this  form  of  expression  was  undoubt- 
edly ambiguous  ;  to  give  a  kiss  may  mean  : 

1.  What  it  literally  says— to  bestow  a  kiss. 

2.  To  offer  one's  self  to  be  kissed.  3.  To  ac- 
cept willingly  a  proffered  kiss  ;  and,  with- 
out much  straining  of  words.  4.  Merely  to 
refrain  from  angry  expostulation  and  a  rupt- 
ure of  acquaintance  when  one  is  kissed — 
this  last  partaking  rather  of  the  nature  of 
the  ratification  of  an  unauthorized  act,  and 
being,  in  fact,  the  measure  of  Dora's  crimin- 


118  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

ality.  But  the  other  shades  of  meaning 
caught  her  attention. 

"  You  know  it's  untrue  ;  I  never  did,"  she 
cried  angrily.  "  I  told  you  at  the  time  that 
no  gentleman  would  have  done  it." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Ashf orth,  I  suppose  ?  It's 
always  Ashf  orth." 

"  Well,  he  wouldn't." 

"  And  some  girls  I  know  wouldn't  forgive 
a  man  on  Monday  and  round  on  him  on 
Wednesday." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  trouble  to  mention 
names.  I  know  the  paragon  you're  think- 
ing of!" 

They  were  now  at  the  hotel. 

"  Going  in  ?  "  asked  Charlie. 

"Yes." 

"I  suppose  we  shall  go  to  the  Bois  to- 
gether ?  " 

"  I  shall  ask  papa  or  Sir  Roger  to  take 
me." 

"  Then  I'll  go  with  Lady  Deane." 

"  I  don't  mind  who  you  go  with,  Mr.  El- 
lerton." 

"  I'll  take  care  that  you're  annoyed  as  lit- 
tle as  possible  by  my  presence." 

"  It  doesn't  annoy  me." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  110 


"  Doesn't  it,  D- 


"  I  don't  notice  it  one  way  or  the  other." 

"  Oh." 

"  Good-by  for  the  present,  Mr.  Ellerton." 

"  Good-by,  Miss  Bellairs  ;  but  I  ought  to 
thank  you." 

"What  for?" 

"  For  making  it  easy  to  me  to  do  what's 
right,"  and  Charlie  turned  on  his  heel  and 
made  rapidly  for  the  nearest  cafe,  where  he 
ordered  an  absinthe. 

Dora  went  wearily  up  to  her  bedroom, 
and,  sitting  down,  reviewed  the  recent  con- 
versation. She  could  not  make  out  how,  or 
why,  or  where  they  had  begun  to  quarrel. 
Yet  they  had  certainly  not  only  begun  but 
made  very  fair  progress,  considering  the 
time  at  their  disposal.  It  had  all  been 
Charlie's  fault.  He  must  be  fond  of  that 
girl  after  all ;  if  so,  it  was  not  likely  that 
she  would  let  him  see  that  she  minded.  Let 
him  go  to  Mary  Travers,  if — if  he  liked  that 
sort  of  prim  creature.  She,  Dora  Bellairs, 
would  not  interfere.  She  would  have  no 
difficulty  in  finding  someone  who  did  care 
for  her.  Poor  John  !  How  happy  he  looked 
when  he  saw  her !    It  was  quite  touching. 


120  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

He  really  looked  almost — almost.  To  her 
sudden  annoyance  and  alarm  she  found  her- 
self finishing'  the  sentence  thus,  "  almost  as 
Charlie  did  at  Avignon." 

"  Oh,  he's  worth  a  thousand  of  Charlie," 
she  exclaimed,  impatiently. 

At  half -past  four  Sir  Roger  Deane  was 
waiting  in  the  hall.  Presently  Dora  ap- 
peared. 

"  Where  are  the  others  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Charlie's  having  a  drink.  Your  father  and 
Maud  aren't  coming.    They're  going  to  rest." 

"  Oh,  well,  we  might  start." 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Dora,  there's  some 
powder  on  your  nose." 

"  Oh,  is  there  ?    Thanks." 

"  What  have  you  been  powdering  for  ?  " 

"Really,  Sir  Roger!  Besides  the  sun  has 
ruined  my  complexion." 

"  Oh,  the  sun." 

"  Yes.     Don't  be  horrid.     Do  let's  start." 

"  But  Charlie- " 

"  I  hate  riding  three  in  a  cab." 

"  Oh,  and  I  like  riding  alone  in  one,  so " 


"No,  no.  You  must  come  with  me.  Mr. 
Ellerton  can  follow  us.  He's  always  drink- 
ing, isn't  he  ?     I  dislike  it  so." 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  121 

Sir  Roger,  with  a  wink  at  an  unrespon- 
sive plaster  bust  of  31.  le  President,  followed 
her  to  the  door.  They  had  just  got  into 
their  little  victoria  when  Charlie  appeared, 
cigarette  in  hand. 

"  Charlie,"  observed  Deane,  "  Miss  Bellairs 
thinks  you'll  be  more  comfortable  by  your- 
self than  perched  on  this  front  seat." 

"Especially  as  you're  smoking,"  added 
Dora.     "  Allez,  cocker." 

Charlie  hailed  another  vehicle  and  got  in. 
As  he  did  so  he  remarked  between  his  teeth, 
"I'md d  if  I  stand  it." 


CHAPTER  XI 

A  DYNAMITE  OUTRAGE 

On  one  side  of  the  lake  Dora  and  John 
walked  together,  on  the  other  Mary  and 
Charlie.  Miss  Bussey  and  Roger  Deane  sat 
in  the  garden  of  the  cafe.  The  scene  round 
them  was  gay.  Carriages  constantly  drove 
up,  discharging  daintily  attired  ladies  and 
their  cavaliers.  There  was  a  constant  stream 
of  bicycles,  some  of  them  steered  by  fair 
riders  in  neat  bloomer-suits ;  the  road- 
waterers  spread  a  grateful  coolness  in  their 
ambit,  for  the  afternoon  was  hot  for  the 
time  of  year,  and  the  dust  had  an  almost 
autumnal  volume.  Miss  Bussey  had  been 
talking  for  nearly  ten  minutes  on  end,  and 
now  she  stopped  with  an  exhausted  air,  and 
sipped  her  coffee.  Deane  lit  another  cigar 
and  sat  silently  looking  on  at  the  life  that 
passed  and  repassed  before  him. 

"  It's  a  curious  story,"  he  observed  at  last. 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  123 

"  Very ;  but  I  suppose  it's  all  ended  happily 
now.    Look  at  them.  Sir  Roger." 

"  Oh,  I  see  them." 

"  Their  troubles  are  over  at  last,  poor 
children ;  and  really  I  think  they've  all  be- 
haved very  well.     And  yet -" 

"Yes?" 

"I  should  have  thought  Maty  and  Mr. 
Ashforth  so  suited  to  one  another.  Well, 
well,  the  heart's  an  unaccountable  thing- — to 
an  old  spinster,  anyhow." 

"You're  right,  Miss  Bussey.  Take  my 
wife  and  me.  You  wouldn't  have  thought 
we  should  have  hit  it  off,  would  you  ?  First 
year  I  knew  her  I  hardly  dared  to  speak 
to  her — used  to  mug  up  Browning  and — 
(Sir  Roger  here  referred  to  an  eminent  liv- 
ing writer)  and  chaps  like  that,  before  I 
went  to  see  her,  you  know.  No  use !  I 
bored  her  to  death.  At  last  I  chucked  it 
up." 

"Well?" 

"  And  I  went  one  day  and  talked  about 
the  Grand  National  for  half  an  hour  by  the 
clock.  Well,  she  asked  me  to  come  again 
next  day,  and  I  went,  and  told  her  all  about 
the    last    burlesque    and  —  and   so  on,  you 


124  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

know.  And  then  I  asked  her  to  marry 
me." 

"  And  she  said  '  Yes '  ?  " 

"Not  directly.  She  said  there  was  an 
impassable  gulf  between  us — an  utter  want 
of  sympathy  in  our  tastes  and  an  irrecon- 
cilable difference  of  intellectual  outlook." 

"  Dear  me !     Didn't  that  discourage  you  ?  " 

"  I  said  I  didn't  care  a  dash  ;  she  was  the 
only  girl  I  ever  cared  for  (all  right,  Miss 
Bussey,  don't  laugh),  and  I'd  have  any  out- 
look she  liked.  I  said  I  knew  I  was  an  ass, 
but  I  thought  I  knew  a  pretty  girl  when 
I  saw  one,  and  I'd  go  away  if  she'd  show 
me  a  prettier  one." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  she  didn't." 

Miss  Bussey  laughed  a  little. 

"Of  course,"  resumed  Sir  Roger,  "I've 
got  money,  you  know,  and  all  that,  and  per- 
haps  -" 

"  Sir  Roger !  What  a  thing  to  say  of 
your  wife !  " 

"  Well,  with  another  girl — but,  hang  it,  I 
don't  believe  Maud  would.  Still,  you  see, 
it's  so  dashed  queer  that  sometimes " 

"  I'm  sure  she's  very  fond  of  you,"  said 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  125 

Miss  Bussey,  rather  surprised  at  the  nature 
of  the  confidence  which  she  Avas  receiving. 

"  I  expect  it's  all  right,"  resumed  Deane, 
more  cheerfully,  "  and  that  brings  us  back 
to  where  we  started,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  And  we  started  in  bewilderment." 

"  You're  puzzled  that  Dora  Bellairs  and 
Ashforth  should  pair  off  together,  and ?  " 

"  Well,  the  other  combination  would  seem 
more  natural,  wouldn't  it?  Doesn't  it  sur- 
prise you  a  little  ?  " 

"  I'm  never  surprised  at  anything  till  I 
know  it's  true,"  said  Sir  Boger. 

"What,  you ?" 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  return  of 
their  friends,  and  a  move  was  made.  Three 
vehicles  were  necessary  to  take  them  back, 
for  the  twos  could,  obviously,  neither  be 
separated  from  one  another  nor  united  with 
anybody  else,  and  in  procession,  Miss  Bussey 
and  Deane  leading,  they  filed  along  the 
avenues  back  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe. 

They  had  hardly  passed  the  open  Place 
when  their  progress  was  suddenly  arrested. 
A  crowd  spread  almost  across  the  broad 
road,  and  sergents-de-ville  imperiously  com- 
manded  a   halt.     There   was    a    babble    of 


126  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

tongues,  great  excitement,  and  a  thousand 
eager  fingers  pointing  at  a  house.  The 
doorway  was  in  ruins,  and  workmen  were 
busy  shoring  it  up  with  beams.  In  the 
middle  of  the  crowd  there  was  an  open 
circle,  surrounded  by  gendarmes,  and  kept 
clear  of  people.  In  the  middle  of  it  lay  a 
thing  like  a  rather  tall  slim  watering-pot, 
minus  the  handle.  The  crowd,  standing  on 
tiptoe  and  peeping  over  the  shoulders  of 
their  guardians,  shook  their  fists  at  this 
harmless-looking  article  and  apostrophised 
it  with  a  wonderful  wealth  of  passionate  in- 
vectives. 

"  What  in  the  world's  the  matter  ?  "  cried 
Miss  Bussey,  who  was  nervous  in  a  crowd. 

"  Revolution,  I  suppose,"  responded  Deane 
calmly,  and  turning  to  his  nearest  neighbor, 
he  continued  in  the  first  French  that  came 
to  him,  "  Une  autre  revolution,  ?i,est-ce-pas, 
Monsieur  ?  " 

The  man  stared,  but  a  woman  near  him 
burst  into  a  voluble  explanation,  from  the 
folds  of  which  unlearned  English  ears  dis- 
entangled, at  the  third  reiteration,  the  om- 
inous word,  "Dynamite;'"  and  she  pointed 
to  the  watering-pot. 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  127 

"Oh,  it'll  go  off!"  shrieked  Miss  Bus- 
sey. 

"It's  gone  off,"  said  Sir  Roger.  "We're 
too  late,"  and  there  was  a  touch  of  disap- 
pointment in  his  voice,  as  he  turned  and 
shouted  to  the  others,  "  Keep  your  seats ! 
It's  all  over.     Only  an  explosion." 

"Only!"  shuddered  Miss  Bussey.  "It's 
a  mercy  we  weren't  killed." 

It  appeared  that  this  mercy  had  not  stopped 
at  Miss  Bussey  and  her  friends.  Nobody 
had  been  killed — not  even  the  magistrate  on 
the  third  floor  for  whose  discipline  and  ref- 
ormation the  occurrence  had  been  arranged  ; 
and  presently  the  carriages  were  allowed  to 
proceed. 

Lady  Deane's  grief  at  having  missed  so 
interesting  an  occasion  was  very  poignant. 

"  No,  Roger,"  said  she,  "  it  is  not  a  mere 
craving  for  horrors,  or  a  morbid  love  of  ex- 
citement ;  I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  ob- 
serve the  crowd,  because  it's  just  at  such  mo- 
ments that  people  reveal  their  true  selves. 
The  veil  is  lifted — the  veil  of  hypocrisy 
and  convention  —  and  you  see  the  naked 
soul." 

"  You  could  hear  it  too,  Maud,"  observed 


128  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Sir  Roger.  "  Fine  chance  of  improving  your 
French  vocabulary.  Still,  I  daresay  you're 
right." 

"  I'm  sure  I  am." 

Deane  looked  at  his  wife  meditatively. 

"You  think,"  he  asked,  "that  being  in 
danger  might  make  people " 

"  Reveal  their  inmost  natures  and  feel- 
ings?    I'm  sure  of  it." 

"  Gad  !     Then  we  might  try." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Roger?  " 

"  Nothing.  You're  going  out  with  the 
General  to-night  ?  Very  well,  I  shall  take 
a  turn  on  my  own  hook." 

As  he  strolled  toward  the  smoking-room, 
he  met  Charlie  Ellerton. 

"  Well,  old  fellow,  had  a  pleasant  after- 
noon ?  " 

"  Glorious !  "  answered  Charlie  in  a  husky 
voice. 

"  Are  we  to  congratulate  you  ?  " 

"  I — I — well,  it's  not  absolutely  settled  yet, 
Deane,  but — soon,  I  hope." 

"  That's  right.  Miss  Bussey  told  me  the 
whole  story,  and  I  think  you're  precious 
lucky  to  get  such  a  girl." 

"  Yes,  aren't  I  ?  " 


THE   WHEEL   OF  LOVE  129 

"You  don't  look  over  and  above  radiant." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go  grinning-  about 
the  hotel  like  an  infernal  hyena  ?  " 

"  I  think  a  chastened  joy  would  be  appro- 
priate." 

"  Don't  be  an  ass,  Deane.  I  suppose  you 
think  you're  funny." 

Sir  Roger  passed  on,  with  a  smile  on  his 
lips.  As  he  passed  the  reading-room  Dora 
Bellairs  came  out. 

"  Well,  Miss  Dora,  enjoyed  your  after- 
noon?" 

"  Oh,  awfully — except  that  dreadful  ex- 
plosion." 

"  You  must  excuse  a  friend,  you  know. 
I'm  awfully  glad  it's  all  come  right  in  the 
end." 

"  You — you're  very  kind,  Sir  Eoger.  It's 
— it's — there's  nothing  quite  settled  yet." 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,  but  still — !  Well,  I 
heard  all  about  it  and  I  think  he's  worthy 
of  you.  I  can't  say  more.  He  seems  a  cap- 
ital fellow." 

"  Yes,  isn't  he  ?     I " 

"Yes?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  very,  very,  very  happy,"  and, 
after  making  this  declaration  in  a  shaky 
9 


130  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

voice,  she  fairly  ran  away  down  the  passage. 
Deane  watched  her  as  she  went. 

"  Maud's  right,"  said  he.  "  She  always 
is.  There's  nothing  for  it  but  dynamite.  I 
wonder  where  it's  to  be  got  ?  " 

General  Bellairs  clapped  him  on  the 
shoulders. 

"  Inclined  for  a  turn,  Deane  ?  I'm  going 
to  see  an  old  servant  of  mine — Painter's  his 
name.  He  married  my  poor  wife's  French 
maid,  and  set  up  as  a  restaurant-keeper  in 
the  Palais-Royal.  I  always  look  him  up 
when  I  come  to  Paris." 

"I'm  your  man,"  answered  Deane,  and 
they  set  out  for  Mr.  Painter's  establishment. 
It  proved  to  be  a  neat  little  place,  neither 
of  the  very  cheap  nor  of  the  very  sumptuous 
class,  and  the  General  was  soon  promising 
to  bring  the  whole  party  to  dejeuner  there. 
Painter  was  profuse  in  thanks  and  called 
Madame  to  thank  the  General.  The  Gen- 
eral at  once  entered  into  conversation  with 
the  trim  little  woman. 

"  Nice  place  yours,  Painter,"  observed 
Deane. 

"  Pleased  to  hear  you  say  so,  Sir 
Bosrer." 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  131 

"  Very  nice.  Ah — er — heard  of  the  explo- 
sion?" 

"  Yes,  Sir  Koger.  Abominable  thing-,  sir. 
These  Socialists " 

"Quite  so.  Never  had  one  here,  I  sup- 
pose ?  " 

"  No,  sir.  We're  pretty  well  looked  after 
in  here." 

"  Like  one  ?  "  asked  Deane. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir.     Ha-ha.     No,  sir." 

"  Because  I  want  one." 

"  You — beg  pardon,  sir  ?  " 

"Look  here,  Painter.  I'll  drop  in  here 
after  dinner  for  some  coffee.  I  want  to  talk 
to  you.     See  ?     Not  a  word  to  the  General." 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Sir  Koger,  but " 

"  All  right.  I'll  put  you  up  to  it.  Here 
they  come.     Present  me  to  Madame." 

They  went  away,  having  arranged  with 
the  Painters  for  luncheon  and  a  private  room 
on  the  next  day  but  one. 

"  Lunch  for  eight,"  said  Deane.  "  At 
least,  General,  I  thought  we  might  ask  our 
friends  from  the  European." 

"  Yes — and  young  Laing." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  him.  Yes,  Laing,  of  course. 
For  nine — neuf,  you  know,  please,  madame." 


132  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  the  General.  "  I'm 
glad  to  do  him  a  turn." 

"  Yes,  that's  all  right,"  assented  Sir  Roger, 
with  the  slightest  possible  chuckle.  "  We 
shall  have  a  jolly  lunch,  eh,  General  ?  " 


CHAPTER  Xn 

ANOTHER ! 

"  I  shall  never,  never  forget  your  gener- 
osity, John." 

"No,  Mary.  It  was  your  honesty  and 
courage  that  did  it." 

"  I  told  Mr.  Ellerton  the  whole  story,  and 
he  seemed  positively  astonished." 

"  And  Miss  Bellairs  admitted  that  when 
she  wrote  she  considered  such  a  thing  ut- 
terly impossible.  She's  changed  a  little, 
Mary.  She's  not  so  cheerful  and  light- 
hearted  as  she  used  to  be." 

"  Think  what  she's  gone  through.  I've  no- 
ticed just  the  same  in  Mr.  Ellerton,  but " 

"  You  hope  to  restore  him  soon  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  I  expect  Miss  Bellairs — what 
a  pretty  girl  she  is,  John— will  soon  revive 
too,  now  she  is  with  you  again.  John,  have 
you  observed  anything  peculiar  in  Aunt 
Sarah's  manner  ?  " 


134  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  fancied  she  was 
rather  short  with  me  once  or  twice  at  din- 
ner." 

"  I  believe  she  is — isn't  pleased  at — at 
what's  happened.  She  hasn't  taken  much 
to  Mr.  Ellerton,  and  you  know  she  liked  you 
so  much,  that  I  think  she  still  wants  you  as 
one  of  the  family." 

John  laughed  :  then  he  leant  forward  and 
said  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  Have  you  settled  anything-  about  dates  ?  " 

"  No.  Mr.  Ellerton — well  he  didn't  intro- 
duce the  subject :  so  of  course  I  didn't. 
Have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  we  haven't.  I  made  some  sugges- 
tion of  the  kind,  but  Miss  Bellairs  didn't 
fall  in  with  it.  She  won't  even  let  me  ask 
her  father's  consent  just  yet." 

"  Mr.  Ellerton  proposes  not  to  announce 
our — anything — for  a  few  days." 

"  Well,"  said  John,  "  I  shall  insist  on  an 
announcement  very  shortly,  and  you  ought 
to  do  the  same,  Mary.  We  know  the 
evils — "  He  checked  himself,  but  Mary  was 
not  embarrassed. 

"  Of  secret  engagements  ?  "  she  said 
calmly.     "  We  do  indeed." 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  135 

"  Besides  it's  a  bore.  I  couldn't  go  with 
Miss  Bellairs  to  the  theatre  to-night,  be- 
cause she  said  it  would  look  too  marked." 

"  Yes,  and  Mr.  Ellerton  said  that  if  he 
dined  here  he  might  as  well  announce  our 
engagement  from  the  statue  of  Strasburg." 

John  frowned,  and  Mary  perceiving  the 
bent  of  his  thoughts  ventured  to  say,  though 
with  a  timid  air  unusual  to  her  : 

"  I  think  they're  the  least  little  bit  incon- 
siderate, don't  you,  John — after  all  we  have 
done  for  them  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind  admitting  that  I  do 
feel  that.  I  do  not  consider  that  Miss  Bel- 
lairs quite  appreciates  the  effort  I  have 
made." 

Mary  sighed. 

"  We  mustn't  expect  too  much  of  them, 
must  we  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  John  conceded  ;  but  he 
still  frowned. 

When  we  consider  how  simple  the  ele- 
ments of  perfect  happiness  appear  to  be,  re- 
garded in  the  abstract,  it  becomes  surpris- 
ing to  think  how  difficult  it  is  to  attain  them 
in  the  concrete.  A  kind  magician  may  grant 
us  all  we  ask,  may  transport  us  whither  we 


136  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

would  go,  dower  us  with  all  we  lack,  bring- 
to  us  one  desired  companion  after  another, 
but  something  is  wrong.  We  have  a  tooth- 
ache, or  in  spite  of  our  rich  curtains  there's 
a  draught,  or  the  loved  one  haps  not  to  be 
at  the  moment  congenial :  and  we  pitifully 
pray  the  wizard  to  wave  his  wand  again. 
Would  any  magician  wave  his  for  these 
four  troublesome  folk  ?  It  must  be  admit- 
ted that  they  hardly  deserved  it. 

Nevertheless  a  magician  was  at  work,  and, 
with  the  expiration  of  the  next  night,  his 
train  was  laid.  At  eleven  o'clock  in  the  fore- 
noon of  Friday,  Roger  Deane  had  a  final 
interview  with  the  still  hesitating  Painter. 

"  But  if  the  police  should  come,  Sir  Ro- 
ger ?  "  urged  the  fearful  man. 

"  Why,  you'll  look  a  fool,  that's  all.  Isn't 
the  figure  high  enough  ?  " 

"  Most  liberal,  Sir  Roger,  but — but  it  will 
alarm  my  wife." 

"  If  you  come  to  that,  it'll  alarm  my 
wife." 

"  Very  true,  Sir  Roger."  Painter  seemed 
to  derive  some  comfort  from  this  indirect 
community  of  feeling  with  the  aristocracy. 

"It'll  alarm  everybody,   I  hope.     That's 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  137 

what  it's  for.  Now  mind — 2.30  sharp — and 
when  the  coffee's  been  in  ten  minutes.  Not 
before !    I  must  have  time  for  coffee." 

"  Very  good,  Sir  Roger." 

"  Is  the  ladder  ready  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir  Roger." 

"  And  the  what's-its-name  ?  " 

"  Quite  ready,  Sir  Roger." 

"  Let's  see  it." 

It  was  inspected  and  pronounced  satisfac- 
tory. Then  Roger  Deane  set  out  to  return 
to  his  hotel,  murmuring  contentedly  : 

"  If  that  don't  make  up  their  minds  for 
'em,  I  don't  know  what  will." 

Then  he  paused  suddenly. 

"  Gad !  "Will  the  women  have  hysterics  ?  " 
he  asked,  but  in  a  moment  he  added,  reas- 
suring himself,  "  Maud  never  has,  and,  hang 
it,  we  must  chance  the  rest." 

Arrived  at  home  he  found  Arthur  Laing 
kicking  his  heels  in  the  smoking-room. 

"Lunching  with  you  today,  ain't  I,  some- 
where in  the  Palais-Royal  ?  "  asked  the  vis- 
itor. 

''Yes,  some  place  the  General's  found 
out.  Look  here,  Laing,  are  you  a  nervous 
man  ?  " 


138  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Nervous !    "What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  " 

"  Lose  your  head  in  moments  of  excite- 
ment ?  " 

"  I  never  have  'em." 

"  Oh,  well,  hang  you !  I  say,  Laing, 
you're  not  a  fool.  Just  look  here.  Any- 
thing I  say — anything,  mind — at  lunch  to- 
day, you're  not  to  contradict.  You're  to 
back  me  up." 

"Right  you  are,  old  chap." 

"  And  the  more  infernal  nonsense  it  sounds, 
the  more  you're  to  take  your  oath  about  it." 

"  I'm  there." 

"  And  finally,  you're  on  no  account  to  lay 
a  finger  either  on  Miss  Travers  or  on  Dora 
Bellairs." 

"  Hullo  !  I'm  not  in  the  habit  of  beating 
women  at  any  time,  let  alone  at  a  lunch- 
party." 

"  I  mean  what  I  say  :  you're  not  to  touch 
either  of  them.  If  you  do  you'll  spoil  it. 
You're  to  go  for  Miss  Bussey." 

"  She's  not  done  me  any  harm."  • 

"  Never  mind.  As  soon  as  the  row  begins 
and  I  say,  '  Save  the  ladies ! '  you  collar 
Miss  Bussey.     See  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  see.     Seems  to  me  we're  going  to 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  139 

have  a  lively  lunch.  Am  I  to  carry  the  old 
lady?" 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,  by  Jove !  How's  my  biceps  ?  Just 
feel,  will  you  ?  " 

Deane  felt  and  gravely  pronounced  the 
muscle  to  be  equal  to  its  task.  Laing  was 
much  gratified,  and  awaited  the  unknown 
future  with  philosophic  patience. 

Sir  Roger  had  predicted  "  a  jolly  lunch," 
but,  in  its  early  stages,  the  entertainment 
hardly  earned  this  description.  Something 
was  wrong  somewhere  ;  Dora  started  by  re- 
fusing, very  pointedly,  to  sit  near  Charlie 
Ellerton ;  and  yet,  when  she  found  herself 
between  Ashforth  and  Laing,  she  was  ab- 
sent, silent,  and  melancholy.  Charlie,  on 
the  other  hand,  painfully  practised  a  la- 
bored attentiveness  to  Mary  Travers  which 
contrasted  ill  with  his  usual  spontaneous 
and  gay  courtesy.  Miss  Bussey  wore  an  air 
of  puzzled  gravity,  and  Laing  kept  looking 
at  her  with  a  calculating  eye.  He  seemed 
to  be  seeking  the  best  grip.  Lady  Deane 
and  the  General,  engrossed  in  a  tete-a-tete 
discussion,  did  little  to  promote  the  hilarity 
of  the  table,  and  it  was  left  to  Deane   to 


UO  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

maintain  the  flow  of  conversation  as  he  best 
could.  Apparently  he  found  the  task  a 
heavy  one,  for,  before  long-,  he  took  a  news- 
paper out  of  his  pocket,  and,  apropos  to  one 
of  his  own  remarks,  began  to  read  a  highly 
decorated  account  of  the  fearful  injuries 
under  which  the  last  victim  of  the  last  dia- 
bolical explosion  had  been  in  danger  of  suc- 
cumbing. Sir  Roger  read  his  gruesome  nar- 
rative with  much  emphasis,  and  as  he  laid 
down  the  paper  he  observed  : 

"  Well,  I  hope  I'm  not  more  of  a  coward 
than  most  men,  but  in  face  of  dynamite — 
ugh !  "  and  he  shuddered  realistically. 

"  I  should  make  for  the  door,"  said  Laing. 

"  Yes,  but  in  this  case  the  bomb  was  at  the 
door!" 

"Then,"  said  Laing,  "I  should  exit  by  the 
window." 

"  But  this  poor  man,"  remarked  Mary 
Travers,  "  stayed  to  rescue  the  woman  he 
loved,"  and  her  eyes  rested  for  an  instant  ir 
confident  affection  on  Charlie  Ellerton. 

"  We  should  all  do  as  much,  I  trust,"  said 
John,  glancing  at  Dora  Bellairs. 

"  I'm  sure  I  hope  you  won't  have  to,"  said 
Dora,  rather  ungraciously. 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  141 

**  Think  what  a  convincing1  test  of  affec- 
tion it  would  be,"  suggested  Deane  persua- 
sively. "  After  that  you  could  never  doubt 
that  the  man  loved  you." 

"  My  good  Sir  Roger,"  observed  Miss  Bus- 
sey,  "  it  would  be  common  humanity." 

"  Suppose  there  were  two  girls,"  said 
Laing,  "  and  you  couldn't  take  'em  both  ! " 

Deane  hastily  interposed. 

"  Haven't  we  had  enough  of  this  dreary 
subject?"  he  asked,  and  he  frowned  slight- 
ly at  Laing. 

"  Isn't  it  about  time  for  coffee  ?  "  the  Gen- 
eral suggested. 

Deane  looked  at  his  watch. 

"What  does  the  time  matter,  Deane,  if 
we're  ready  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit.  2.20.  That's  all  right,"  and 
he  rang  the  bell. 

Painter  came  in  with  the  coffee :  the  lit- 
tle man  looked  rather  pale  and  nervous,  but 
succeeded  in  serving  the  company  without 
upsetting  the  cups.  He  came  to  Deane 
last. 

"  Is  everything  ready  ?  "  whispered  that 
gentleman,  and  receiving  a  trembling  "  Yes, 
sir,"  he  added,  "  in  ten  minutes." 


142  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"This,"  lie  observed  out  loud,  "has  been 
a  pleasant  gathering — a  pleasant  end  to  our 
outing." 

"What?  You're  going?"  asked  Miss 
Bussey. 

"  Yes :  my  wife  and  I  cross  to  England 
to-morrow." 

"  I  shall  go  the  next  day,"  announced  the 
General,  "  if  Dora  is  ready." 

John  threw  a  glance  toward  Dora,  but  she 
was  busy  drinking  her  coffee. 

"Well,"  said  Deane,  "I  hope  we  may 
soon  meet  again,  under  equally  delightful 
circumstances,  in  London.  At  any  rate,"  he 
added  with  a  laugh,  "  there  we  shall  be  safe 
from " 

Crash !  A  loud  noise  came  from  the  door, 
as  if  of  some  metallic  substance  thrown 
against  the  panels. 

"  Hullo ! "  said  Laing. 

"  Oh,  somebody  tumbled  downstairs," 
said  Deane  reassuringly.  "Don't  move, 
Miss  Bussey." 

"Oh,  but  Sir  Eoger,  what  is  it?  What 
do  you  think  ?  It  didn't  sound  at  all  like 
what  you  say." 

The  General  laughed. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  143 

"  Come,  Miss  Bussey,  I  don't  suppose 
it's " 

As  he  spoke  the  form  of  Painter  appeared 
at  the  open  window.  He  was  breathless, 
and  shrieked  hastily  : 

"  Dynamite,  dynamite !  Save  yourselves ! 
It'll  be  off  in  a  minute." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  off  in  half  a  minute," 
said  Laing. 

There  was  a  rush  to  the  door,  and  Laing, 
remembering-  his  instructions,  joined  has- 
tily in  it. 

"  No,  no.  The  bomb's  there ! "  cried 
Painter,  excitedly. 

They  stood  still  in  horror  for  ten  seconds. 

"  To  the  window,  to  the  window,  for  your 
lives !  Save  the  ladies !  "  cried  Sir  Boger 
Deane. 


CHAPTER  Xni 

FAITHFUL  TO  DEATH 

The  ladies  looked  at  one  another.  Even 
in  that  awful  moment,  the  becoming-,  the 
seemly,  the  dignified  had  its  claims.  The 
window  was  narrow :  the  ladder  —  Mary 
Travers  had  gone  to  look  at  it — was  steep  : 
a  little,  curious,  excited  crowd  was  gather- 
ing below.  Deane  saw  their  hesitation. 
He  rushed  to  the  door  and  cautiously 
opened  it.  The  thing  was  there !  Across 
the  very  entrance  —  that  villainous  oblong 
case!  And  from  below  came  a  shriek — it 
was  Madame's  voice,  and  a  cry  of  "  Quick ! 
quick ! " 

"  This,"  said  the  General  firmly  (he  had 
been  through  the  Mutiny),  "is  not  a  time 
for  punctilio.  Excuse  me,"  and  he  lifted 
Lady  Deane  in  his  stalwart  arms  and  bore 
her  toward  the  window. 

With  a  distant  reminiscence  of  the  ball- 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  145 

room,  Arthur  Laing  approached  Miss  Bus- 
sey,  murmuring  "May  I  have  the — "  and 
with  a  mighty  effort  swung  the  good  lady 
from  the  ground.  She  clutched  his  cravat 
wildly,  crying  "  Save  me !  " 

Mary  Travers  was  calmness  itself.  "With 
quiet  mien  and  unfaltering  voice,  she  laid 
her  hand  on  Charlie's  arm  and  murmured : 

"I  am  ready,  Charlie." 

At  the  same  moment  John  Ashforth,  the 
light  of  heroism  in  his  eye,  whispered  to 
Dora,  "You  must  trust  yourself  implicitly 
to  me." 

"  Quick,  quick  !  "  cried  Deane,  "  or  it's  all 
up  with  you.  Quick,  Ashforth !  Quick, 
Charlie,  quick,  man ! " 

There  was  one  more  pause.  Mary's  hand 
pressed  a  little  harder.  John's  arm  was  ad- 
vancing towards  Dora's  waist.  Sir  Roger 
looked  on  with  apparent  impatience. 

"  Are  you  never  going  ?  "  he  called. 
"  Must  I " 

Suddenty  a  loud  cry  rang  out.  It  came 
from  Miss  Bellairs. 

"  Oh,   Charlie,   save  me,   save  me ! "  she 

cried,  and  then  and  there  flung  herself  into 

his  arms. 

10 


146  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  My  darling- !  "  lie  whispered  loudly,  and 
catching-  her  up  made  for  the  window.  As 
they  disappeared  through  it,  Deane  softly 
and  swiftly  opened  the  door  and  disap- 
peared in  his  turn.  Mary  and  John  were 
left  alone.  Then  Mary's  composure  gave 
way.     Sinking  into  a  chair  she  cried  : 

"And  I  am  left!  Nobody  cares  for  me. 
What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

In  an  instant  John's  strong  arm  was 
round  her.  "  I  care  for  you !  "  he  cried,  and 
raising  her  almost  senseless  form,  he  rushed 
to  the  window.     The  ladder  was  gone  ! 

"  Gone !  "  he  shrieked.     "  Where  is  it  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer.  The  little  crowd 
had  gone  too. 

"We  are  lost,"  he  said. 

Mary  opened  her  eyes. 

"  Lost ! "  she  echoed. 

"  Lost !  Abandoned — by  those  who  loved 
— ah,  no,  no,  Mary.  In  the  hour  of  danger 
— then  we  see  the  truth  !  " 

Mary's  arms  clasped  him  closer. 

"Ah,  John,  John,"  she  said,  "we  must 
die  together,  dear." 

John  stooped  and  kissed  her. 

Suddenly  the  door  was  opened  and  Deane 


THE   WHEEL  OF  LOVE  147 

entered.  He  wore  a  comically  apologetic 
look,  and  carried  an  oblong1  metal  vessel  in 
his  right  hand. 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  said.  "  There's  been 
—  er  —  slight  but  very  natural  mistake. 
It  wasn't — er  —  exactly  dynamite — it's — er 
— a  preserved-peach  tin.  That  fool  Paint- 
er  " 

"  Then  we're  safe ! "  cried  Mary. 

"Yes,  thank  Heaven,"  answered  Deane 
fervently. 

"Oh,  John!"  she  cried. 

Sir  Eoger,  with  a  smile,  retired  and  closed 
the  door  after  him. 

Downstairs  Lady  Deane  and  Miss  Bussey, 
forgetful  of  their  sufferings,  were  restoring 
Madame  Painter  to  her  senses ;  Painter  was 
uncorking  a  bottle  of  champagne  for  Arthur 
Laing ;  Sir  Roger  Deane  was  talking  in  a 
low  voice  and  persuasive  tones  to  an  im- 
posing representative  of  the  police.  What 
passed  between  them  is  unknown  ;  possibly 
only  words,  possibly  something  else ;  at  any 
rate,  after  a  time,  Deane  smiled,  the  great 
man  smiled  responsively,  saluted,  and  dis- 
appeared, murmuring  something  about  An- 
glais, milords,  and  droles.     The  precise  pur- 


148  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

port  of  his  reflections  could  not  be  distinctly 
understood  by  those  in  the  house,  for  civil- 
ity made  him  inarticulate,  but  when  he  was 
safely  outside  he  looked  at  a  piece  of  crisp 
paper  in  his  hand,  then,  with  his  thumb 
pointing  over  his  shoulder,  he  gave  an  im- 
mense shrug,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Mais  voila  un  fou  !  "  and  to  this  day  he 
considers  Roger  Deane  the  very  type  of  a 
maniac. 

Mary  and  John  descended.  As  soon  as 
they  appeared  Dora  jumped  up  from  her 
seat  and  ran  towards  John,  crying, 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Ashforth !  " 

While  Charlie,  advancing  more  timidly  to 
Mary,  murmured :  "  Forgive  me,  but " 

Mary  with  a  slight  bow,  John  with  a  lift 
of  his  hat,  both  without  a  halt  or  a  word, 
passed  through  the  room,  arm-in-arm,  and 
vanished  from  Mr.  Painter's  establishment. 

Sir  Roger  had  seized  on  Laing's  cham- 
pagne and  was  pouring  it  out.  He  stopped 
now,  and  looked  at  Dora.  A  sudden  gleam 
of  intelligence  glanced  from  her  eyes. 
Rushing  up  to  him,  she  whispered,  "  You 
did  it  all  ?    It  was  all  a  hoax  ?  " 

He  nodded. 


THE  WHEEL  OF  LOVE  149 

"And  why?" 

"  Ask  Charlie  Ellerton,"  he  answered. 

"  Oh,  but  Mr.  Ashforth  and  Mary  Travers 
are  so  angry ! " 

"With  one  another?" 

"  No,  with  us." 

Sir  Roger  looked  her  mercilessly  full  in 
the  face,  regardless  of  her  blushes. 

"That,"  he  observed  with  emphasis,  "is 
exactly  what  you  wanted,  Miss  Bellairs." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  company,  holding 
a  full  glass  in  his  hand.  "  Ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen," said  he,  "  some  of  us  have  had  a 
narrow  escape.  Whether  we  shall  be  glad 
of  it  or  sorry  hereafter,  I  don't  know — do 
you,  Charlie  ?     But  here's  a  health  to " 

But  Dora,  glancing  apprehensively  at  the 
General,  whispered,  "  Not  yet !  " 

"  To  Dynamite  ! "  said  Sir  Roger  Deane. 

POSTSCRIPT 

It  should  be  added  that  a  fuller,  more 
graphic,  and  more  sensational  account  of 
the  outrage  in  the  Palais-Royal  than  this 
pen  has  been  capable  of  inscribing  will  ap- 
pear, together  with  much  other  curious  and 
enlightening  matter,  in  Lady  Deane's  next 


150  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

work.  The  author  also  takes  occasion  in 
that  work — and  there  is  little  doubt  that  the 
subject  was  suggested  by  the  experiences  of 
some  of  her  friends— to  discuss  the  nature, 
quality,  and  duration  of  the  Passion  of 
Love.  She  concludes — if  it  be  permissible 
thus  far  to  anticipate  the  publication  of  her 
book — that  all  True  Love  is  absolutely  per- 
manent and  indestructible,  untried  by  cir- 
cumstance and  untouched  by  time  ;  and  this 
opinion  is,  she  says,  indorsed  by  every 
woman  who  has  ever  been  in  love.  Thus 
fortified,  the  conclusion  seems  beyond  cavil. 
If,  therefore,  any  incidents  here  recorded 
appear  to  conflict  with  it,  we  must  imi- 
tate the  discretion  of  Plato  and  say,  either 
these  persons  were  not  Sons  of  the  Gods — 
that  is,  True  Lovers — or  they  did  not  do 
such  things.  Unfortunately,  however,  Lady 
Deane's  proof-sheets  were  accessible  too 
late  to  allow  of  the  title  of  this  story  being 
changed.  So  it  must  stand — "The  Wheel 
of  Love  ; "  but  if  any  lady  (men  are  worse 
than  useless)  will  save  the  author's  credit  by 
proving  that  wheels  do  not  go  round,  he 
will  be  very  much  obliged — and  will  offer 
her  every  facility. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL 


CHAPTEK  I 

A  FIRM  BELIEVER 

"  I  SEE  Mr.  Vansittart  Merceron's  at  the 

1     Court  again,  mamma." 

"Yes,  dear.  Lady  Merceron  told  me  he 
was  coming.  She  wanted  to  consult  him 
about  Charlie." 

"  She's  always  consulting  him  about  Char- 
lie, and  it  never  makes  any  difference." 

Mrs.  Bushell  looked  up  from  her  needle- 
work ;  her  hands  were  full  with  needle  and 
stuff,  and  a  couple  of  pins  protruded  from 
her  lips.  She  glanced  at  her  daughter,  who 
stood  by  the  window  in  the  bright  blaze  of  a 
brilliant  sunset,  listlessly  hitting  the  blind- 
cord  and  its  tassel  to  and  fro. 

"  The  poor  boy's  very  young  still,"  mum- 
bled Mrs.  Bushell  through  her  pins. 


154  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  He's  twenty -five  last  month,"  returned 
Millicent.  "  I  know,  because  there's  exactly 
three  years  between  him  and  me." 

The  sinking-  rays  defined  Miss  Bushell's 
form  with  wonderful  clearness.  She  was 
very  tall,  and  the  severe  well-cut  cloth  gown 
she  wore  set  off  the  stately  lines  of  her  fig- 
ure. She  had  a  great  quantity  of  fair  hair 
and  a  handsome  face,  spoilt  somewhat  by  a 
slightly  excessive  breadth  across  the  cheeks ; 
as  her  height  demanded  or  excused,  her 
hands  and  feet  were  not  small,  though  well 
shaped.  Would  Time  have  arrested  his 
march  for  ever,  there  would  have  been  small 
fault  to  find  with  Nature's  gifts  to  Miss 
Bushell ;  but,  as  her  mother  said,  Millie  was 
just  what  she  had  been  at  twenty-one  ;  and 
Mrs.  Bushell  was  now  extremely  stout. 
Millie  escaped  the  inference  by  discrediting 
her  mother's  recollection. 

The  young  lady  wore  her  hat,  and  presently 
she  turned  away  from  the  window,  remark- 
ing: 

"  I  think  I  shall  go  for  a  stroll.  I've  had 
no  exercise  to-day." 

Either  inclination,  or  perhaps  that 
threatening  possibility  from  which  she  strove 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  155 

to  avert  her  eyes,  made  Millie  a  devotee  of 
active  pursuits.  She  hunted,  she  rode,  she 
played  lawn-tennis,  and,  when  at  the  sea- 
side, golf  ;  when  all  failed,  she  walked  reso- 
lutely four  or  five  miles  on  the  high-road, 
swinging  along  at  a  healthy  pace,  and  never 
pausing  save  to  counsel  an  old  woman  or  re- 
buke a  truant  urchin.  On  such  occasions 
her  manner  (for  we  may  not  suppose  that  her 
physique  aided  the  impression)  suggested 
the  benevolent  yet  stern  policeman,  and  the 
vicar  acknowledged  in  her  an  invaluable 
assistant.  By  a  strange  coincidence  she 
seemed  to  suit  the  house  she  lived  in — one 
of  those  large  white  square  dwellings,  de- 
void of  ornament,  yet  possessing  every  sub- 
stantial merit,  and  attaining,  by  virtue  of 
their  dimensions  and  simplicity,  an  effect  of 
handsomeness  denied  to  many  more  tricked- 
out  buildings.  The  house  satisfied ;  so  did 
Millie,  unless  the  judge  were  very  critical. 

"  I  shall  just  walk  round  by  the  Pool  and 
back,"  she  added  as  she  opened  the  door. 

"  My  dear,  it's  four  miles  !  " 

"  Well,  it's  only  a  little  after  six,  and  we 
don't  dine  till  eight." 

Encountering  no  further  opposition  than  a 


156  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

sigh  of  admiration — three  hundred  yards  was 
the  limit  of  pleasure  in  a  walk  to  her  mother 
— Millie  Bushell  started  on  her  way,  dan- 
gling1 a  neat  ebony  stick  in  her  hand,  and  set- 
ting her  feet  down  with  a  firm  decisive  tread. 
It  did  not  take  her  long  to  cover  the  two 
miles  between  her  and  her  destination. 
Leaving  the  road,  she  entered  the  grounds 
of  the  Court  and,  following  a  little  path 
which  ran  steeply  down  hill,  she  found  her- 
self by  the  willows  and  reeds  fringing  the 
edge  of  the  Pool.  Opposite  to  her,  on  the 
higher  bank,  some  seven  or  eight  feet  above 
the  water,  rose  the  temple,  a  small  classical 
erection,  used  now,  when  at  all,  as  a  sum- 
mer-house, but  built  to  commemorate  the 
sad  fate  of  Agatha  Merceron.  The  sun  had 
just  sunk,  and  the  Pool  looked  chill  and 
gloomy ;  the  deep  water  under  the  temple 
was  black  and  still.  Millie's  robust  mind 
was  not  prone  to  superstition,  yet  she  was 
rather  relieved  to  think  that,  with  the  sun 
only  just  gone,  there  was  a  clear  hour  before 
Agatha  Merceron  would  come  out  of  the 
temple,  slowly  and  fearfully  descend  the 
shallow  flight  of  marble  steps,  and  lay  her- 
self down  in  the  water  to  die.     That  hap- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  157 

pened  every  evening",  according1  to  the 
legend,  an  hour  after  sunset— every  evening, 
for  the  last  two  hundred  years,  since  poor 
Agatha,  bereft  and  betrayed,  had  found  the 
Pool  kinder  than  the  world,  and  sunk  her 
sorrow  and  her  shame  and  her  beauty  there 
— such  shame  and  such  beauty  as  had  never 
been  before  or  after  in  all  the  generations  of 
the  Mercerons. 

"  What  nonsense  it  all  is !  "  said  Millie 
aloud.  "  But  I'm  afraid  Charlie  is  silly 
enough  to  believe  it." 

As  she  spoke  her  eye  fell  on  a  Canadian 
canoe,  which  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 
She  recognized  it  as  Charlie  Merceron's, 
and,  knowing  that  approach  to  the  temple 
from  the  other  side  was  to  be  gained  only 
by  a  difficult  path  through  a  tangled  wood, 
and  that  the  canoe  usually  lay  under  a  lit- 
tle shed  a  few  yards  from  where  she  stood, 
she  concluded  that  Charlie  was  in  the  tem- 
ple. There  was  nothing  surprising  in  that : 
it  was  a  favorite  haunt  of  his.  She  raised 
her  voice  and  called  to  him.  At  first  no 
answer  came,  and  she  repeated  : 

"  Charlie  !  Charlie !  " 

After  a  moment   of    waiting  a  head   was 


158  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

thrust  out  of  a  window  in  the  side  of  the 
temple — a  head  in  a  straw  hat. 

"  Hullo  !  "  said  Charlie  Merceron  in  tones 
of  startled  surprise.  Then,  seeing  the  visi- 
tor, he  added  :  "  Oh,  it's  you,  Millie  !  How 
did  you  know  I  was  here  ?  " 

"  By  the  canoe,  of  course." 

"  Hang  the  canoe !  "  muttered  Charlie, 
and  his  head  disappeared.  A  second  later 
he  came  out  of  the  doorway  and  down  the 
steps.  Standing-  on  the  lowest,  he  shouted 
— the  Pool  was  about  sixty  feet  across — 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  How  rude  you  are ! "  shouted  Miss 
Bush  ell  in  reply. 

Charlie  got  into  the  canoe  and  began  to 
paddle  across.  He  had  just  reached  the 
other  side,  when  Millie  screamed  : 

"  Look,  look,  Charlie  !  "  she  cried.  "  The 
temple ! " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  I — I  saw  something  white  at  the  window." 

Charlie  got  out  of  the  canoe  hastily. 

"  What  ?  "  he  asked  again,  walking  up  to 
Miss  Bushell. 

"  I  declare  I  saw  something  white  at  the 
window.     Oh,  Charlie !     But  it's  all " 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  POOL  159 

"  Bosh  ?  Of  course  it  is.  There's  noth- 
ing in  the  temple." 

"  Well,  I  thought — I  wonder  you  like  to  be 
there." 

"Why  shouldn't  I?" 

The  mysterious  appearance  not  being  re- 
peated, Millie's  courage  returned. 

"  I  thought  you  believed  in  the  ghost," 
she  said,  smiling. 

"  So  I  do,  but  I  don't  mind  it." 

"  You've  never  seen  it  ?  " 

"  Supposing  I  haven't  ?  That  doesn't 
prove  it's  not  true." 

"  But  you're  often  here  at  the  time  ?  " 

"  Never,"  answered  Charlie  with  emphasis. 
"  I  always  go  away  before  the  time." 

"  Then  you'd  better  come  now.  Put  the 
canoe  to  bed  and  walk  with  me." 

Charlie  Merceron  thrust  his  hands  into 
his  pockets  and  smiled  at  his  companion. 
He  was  tall  also,  and  just  able  to  look  down 
on  her. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  I'm  not  going  yet." 

"  How  rude — oh,  there  it  is  again,  Charlie ! 
I  saw  it !  I'm — I'm  frightened,"  and  her 
healthy  color  paled  a  trifle,  as  she  laid  a 
hand  on  Charlie's  arm. 


160  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  observed  Charlie.  "  If 
you  have  fancies  of  this  kind  you'd  better 
not  come  here  any  more — not  in  the  even- 
ing, at  all  events.  You  know  people  who 
think  they're  going1  to  see  things  always 
do  see  'em." 

"  My  heart  is  positively  beating,"  said  Miss 
Bushell.  "I  —  I  don't  quite  like  walking 
back  alone." 

"  I'll  see  you  as  far  as  the  road,"  Charlie 
conceded,  and  with  remarkable  promptitude 
he  led  the  way,  turning  his  head  over  his 
shoulder  to  remark : 

"  Keally,  if  you're  so  nervous,  you  oughtn't 
to  come  here." 

"  I  never  will  again — not  alone,  I  mean." 

Charlie  had  breasted  the  hill  with  such 
goodwill  that  they  were  already  at  the 
road. 

"  And  you're  really  going  back  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Oh,  just  for  a  few  minutes.  I  left  my 
book  in  the  temple — I  was  reading  there. 
She's  not  due  for  half  an  hour  yet,  you 
know." 

"  What — what  happens  if  you  see  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  die,"  answered  Charlie.    "  Good- 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  POOL  1G1 

night ;  "  and  with  a  smile  and  a  nod  he  ran 
down  the  hill  towards  the  Pool. 

Miss  Bushell,  cavalierly  deserted,  made 
her  way  home  at  something  more  than  her 
usual  rate  of  speed.  She  had  never  believed 
in  that  nonsense,  but  there  was  certainly 
something-  white  at  that  window — some- 
thing white  that  moved.  Under  the  circum- 
stances, Charlie  really  might  have  seen  her 
home,  she  thought,  for  the  wood  -  fringed 
road  was  gloomy,  and  dusk  coming  on 
apace.  Besides,  where  was  the  hardship  in 
being  her  escort  ? 

Doubtless  none,  Charlie  would  have  an- 
swered, unless  a  man  happened  to  have 
other  fish  to  fry.  The  pace  at  which  the 
canoe  crossed  the  Pool  and  brought  up  at 
its  old  moorings  witnessed  that  he  had  no 
leisure  to  spend  on  Miss  Bushell.  Leaping 
out,  he  ran  up  the  steps  into  the  temple,  cry- 
ing in  a  loud  whisper  : 

"  She's  gone ! " 

The  temple  was  empty,  and  Charlie,  look- 
ing round  in  vexation,  added  : 

"  So  has  she,  by  Jingo  !  " 

He  sat  down  disconsolately  on  the  low 
marble  seat  that  ran  round  the  little  shrine. 
11 


162  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

There  were  no  signs  of  the  book  of  which  he 
had  spoken  to  Millie  Bushell.  There  were 
no  signs  of  anybody  whom  he  could  have 
meant  to  address.  Stay !  One  sign  there 
was :  a  long  hat-pin  lay  on  the  floor.  Char- 
lie picked  it  up  with  a  sad  smile. 

"  Agatha's,"  he  said  to  himself. 

And  yet,  as  everyone  in  the  neighborhood 
knew,  poor  Agatha  Merceron  went  nightly 
to  her  phantom  death  bareheaded  and  with 
golden  locks  tossed  by  the  wind.  Moreover, 
the  pin  was  of  modern  manufacture ;  more- 
over, ghosts  do  not  wear  —  but  there  is  no 
need  to  enter  on  debatable  ground  ;  the  pin 
was  utterly  modern. 

"  Now,  if  uncle  Van,"  mused  Charlie, 
"  came  here  and  saw  this !  "  He  care- 
fully put  the  pin  in  his  breast-pocket,  and 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  exactly  Agatha 
Merceron's  time  ;  yet  Charlie  leant  back  on 
his  cold  marble  seat,  put  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  gazed  up  at  the  ceiling  with  the 
happiest  possible  smile  on  his  face.  For 
one  steeped  in  family  legends,  worshipping 
the  hapless  lady's  memory  with  warm  devo- 
tion, and  reputed  a  sincere  believer  in  her 
ghostly  wanderings,  he  awaited  her  coming 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  163 

with  marvellous  composure.  In  point  of 
fact  he  had  forgotten  all  about  her,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  prevent  her  coming,  slipping 
down  the  steps,  and  noiselessly  into  the 
water,  all  unnoticed  by  him.  His  eyes  were 
glued  to  the  ceiling,  the  smile  played  on  his 
lips,  his  ears  were  filled  with  sweet  echoes, 
and  his  thoughts  were  far  away.  Perhaps 
the  dead  lady  came  and  passed  unseen. 
That  Charlie  did  not  see  her  was  ridiculously 
slight  evidence  whereon  to  damn  so  ancient 
and  picturesque  a  legend.  He  thought  the 
same  himself,  for  that  night  at  dinner — he 
came  in  late  for  dinner — he  maintained  the 
credit  of  the  story  with  fierce  conviction 
against  Mr.  Vansittart  Merceron's  scepti- 
cism. 


CHAPTER   n 

MISS   WALLACE'S  FRIEND 

In  old  days  the  Mercerons  had  been  great 
folk.  They  had  held  the  earldom  of  Lang- 
bury  and  the  barony  of  Warmley.  A  failure 
of  direct  descent  in  the  male  line  extin- 
guished the  earldom  ;  the  Lady  Agatha  was 
the  daughter  of  the  last  earl,  and  would 
have  been  Baroness  Warmley  had  she  lived. 
On  her  death  that  title  passed  to  her  cousin, 
and  continued  in  that  branch  till  the  early 
days  of  the  present  century.  Then  came 
another  break.  The  Lord  Warmley  of  that 
day,  a  Regency  dandy,  had  a  son,  but  not 
one  who  could  inherit  his  honors,  and  away 
went  the  barony  to  a  yet  younger  branch, 
where,  falling  a  few  years  later  into  female 
hands,  it  was  merged  in  a  brand-new  vis- 
county, and  was  now  waiting  till  chance 
again  should  restore  it  to  an  independent 
existence.     From  the  Mercerons  of  the  Court 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  105 

it  was  gone  for  over,  and  the  blot  on  their 
escutcheon  which  lost  it  them  was  a  sore 
point,  from  which  it  behooved  visitors  and 
friends  to  refrain  their  tongues.  The  Re- 
gent had,  indeed,  with  his  well-known  good 
nature,  offered  a  baronetcy  to  hide  the  stain  ; 
but  pride  forbade,  and  the  Mercerons  now 
held  no  titles,  save  the  modest  dignity 
which  Charlie's  father,  made  a  K.C.B.  for 
services  in  the  North-West  Provinces,  had 
left  behind  him  to  his  widow.  But  the  old 
house  was  theirs,  and  a  comfortable  rem- 
nant of  the  lands,  and  the  pictures  of  the  ex- 
tinct earls  and  barons,  down  to  him  whose 
sins  had  robbed  the  line  of  its  surviving 
rank  and  left  it  in  a  position,  from  an  her- 
aldic point  of  view,  of  doubtful  respectabil- 
ity. Lady  Merc*  iron  felt  so  acutely  on  the 
subject  that  she  banished  this  last  noble- 
man to  the  smoking-room.  There  was,  con- 
sidering everything,  an  appropriateness  in 
that  position,  and  he  no  longer  vexed  her 
eyes  as  she  sat  at  meat  in  the  dining-room. 
She  had  purposed  a  like  banishment  for 
Lady  Agatha ;  but  here  Charlie  had  inter- 
ceded, and  the  unhappy  beauty  hung  still 
behind  his  mother's  chair  and  opposite  his 


166  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

own.  It  was  just  to  remember  that  but  for 
poor  Agatha's  fault  and  fate  the  present 
branch  might  never  have  enjoyed  the  honors 
at  all ;  so  Charlie  urged  to  Lady  Merceron, 
catching  at  any  excuse  for  keeping  Lady 
Agatha.  Lady  Merceron's  way  of  judging 
pictures  may  seem  peculiar,  but  the  fact  is 
that  she  lacked  what  is  called  the  sense  of 
historical  perspective  :  she  did  not  see  why 
our  ancestors  should  be  treated  so  tenderly 
and  allowed,  with  a  charitable  reference  to 
the  change  in  manners,  forgiveness  for  what 
no  one  to-day  could  hope  to  win  a  pardon. 
Mr.  Vansittart  Merceron  smiled  at  his  sister- 
in-law  and  shrugged  his  shoulders ;  but  in 
vain.  To  the  smoking-room  went  the  wicked 
Lord  Warmley,  and  Lady  Agatha  was  re- 
markably lucky  in  that  she  did  not  follow 
him. 

Mr.  Vansittart,  half-brother  to  the  late  Sir 
Victor,  and  twenty  years  younger  than  he, 
was  a  short  thick-set  man,  with  a  smooth 
round  white  face,  and  a  way  of  speaking  so 
deliberate  and  weighty  that  it  imparted  mo- 
mentousness  to  nothings  and  infallibility  to 
nonsense.  When  he  really  had  something 
sensible  to  say,  and  that  was  very  fairly 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  167 

often,  the  effect  was  enormous.  He  was 
now  forty -four,  a  widower,  well  off  by  his 
marriage,  and  a  Member  of  Parliament. 
Naturally,  Lady  Merceron  relied  much  on 
his  advice,  especially  in  what  concerned  her 
son  ;  she  was  hazy  about  the  characters  and 
needs  of  young  men,  not  knowing  how  they 
should  be  treated  or  what  appealed  to  them. 
Amid  her  haziness,  one  fact  only  stood  out 
clear.  To  deal  with  a  young  man,  you 
wanted  a  man  of  the  world.  In  this  capac- 
ity Mr.  Vansittart  had  now  been  sent  for  to 
the  Court,  the  object  of  his  visit  being  noth- 
ing less  than  the  arrangement  and  satisfac- 
tory settlement  of  Charlie's  future. 

Mr.  Vansittart  approached  the  future 
through  the  present  and  the  past.  "  You 
wasted  your  time  at  school,  you  wasted  your 
time  at  Oxford,  you're  wasting  your  time 
now,"  he  remarked,  when  Charlie  and  he 
were  left  alone  after  dinner. 

Charlie  was  looking  at  Lady  Agatha's 
picture.  With  a  sigh  he  turned  to  his 
uncle. 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  he  said  tolerantly, 
"but  what  is  there  for  me  to  do ?  " 

"  If  you   took  more   interest  in   country 


168  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

pursuits  it  might  be  different.  But  you 
don't  hunt,  you  shoot  very  seldom " 

"  And  very  badly." 

"  And  not  at  all  well,  as  you  admit.  You 
say  you  won't  become  a  magistrate,  you 
show  no  interest  in  politics  or — er — social 
questions.     You  simply  moon  about." 

Charlie  was  vividly  reminded  of  a  learned 
judge  whom  he  had  once  heard  pronouncing 
sentence  of  death.  His  uncle's  denunciation 
seemed  to  lack  its  appropriate  conclusion — 
that  he  should  be  hanged  by  the  neck  till  he 
was  dead.    He  was  roused  to  defend  himself. 

"  You're  quite  wrong,  uncle,"  he  said. 
"  I'm  working  hard.  I'm  writing  a  history 
of  the  family." 

"  A  history  of  the  family  ! "  groaned  Mr. 
Vansittart.  "  Who  wants  one  ?  Who'll 
read  one  ?  " 

"  From  an  antiquarian  point  of  view " 

began  Charlie  stoutly. 

"  Of  all  ways  of  wasting  time,  antiquarian- 
ism  is  perhaps  the  most  futile ;  "  and  Mr. 
Vansittart  wiped  his  mouth  with  an  air  of 
finality. 

"  Now  the  Agatha  Merceron  story,"  con- 
tinued Charlie,  "  is  in  itself " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  169 

"  Perhaps  we'd  better  finish  our  talk  to- 
morrow. The  ladies  will  expect  us  in  the 
garden." 

"  All  right,"  said  Charlie,  with  much  con- 
tent. He  enjoyed  himself  more  in  the  gar- 
den, for,  while  Lady  Merceron  and  her 
brother  -  in  -  law  took  counsel,  he  strolled 
through  the  moonlit  shrubberies  with  Mrs. 
Marian  d,  and  Mrs.  Marland  was  very  sym- 
pathetically interested  in  him  and  his  pur- 
suits. She  was  a  little  eager  woman,  the 
very  antithesis  in  body  and  miud  to  Millie 
Bushell ;  she  had  plenty  of  brains  but  very 
little  sense,  a  good  deal  of  charm  but  no 
beauty,  and,  without  any  counterbalancing 
defect  at  all,  a  hearty  liking  for  handsome 
young  men.  She  had  also  a  husband  in  the 
City. 

"  Ghost-hunting  again  to-night,  Mr.  Mer- 
ceron ?  "  she  asked,  glancing  up  at  Charlie, 
who  was  puffing  happily  at  a  cigar. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  I'm  very  regular." 

"  And  did  you  see  anyone  ?  " 

"  I  saw  Millie  Bushell." 

"  Miss  Bushell's  hardly  ghost  -  like,  is 
she  ?  " 

"  Well,"    said    Charlie    meditatively,    "  I 


170  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

suppose  if  one  was  fat  oneself  one's  ghost 
would  be  fat,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Marland,  letting-  the  problem  alone, 
laughed  softly. 

"  Poor  Miss  Bushell !  If  she  heard  you 
say  that !    Or  if  Lady  Merceron  heard  you !  " 

"  It  would  hardly  surprise  my  mother  to 
hear  that  I  thought  Millie  Bushell  plump. 
She  is  plump,  you  know ;  "  and  Charlie's 
eyes  expressed  a  candid  homage  to  truth. 

"  Oh,  I  know  what's  being  arranged  for 
vou." 

"  So  do  L" 

"And  you'll  do  it.  Oh,  you  think  you 
won't,  but  you  will.  Men  always  end  by  do- 
ing what  they're  told." 

"Does  Mr.  Marland?" 

"  He  begins  by  it,"  laughed  his  wife. 

"  Is  that  why  he's  not  coming  till  Satur- 
day week  ?  " 

"Mr.  Merceron!  But  what  was  Miss 
Bushell  doing  at  the  Pool  ?  Did  she  come 
to  find  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  just  for  a  walk." 

"  Poor  girl !  " 

"  Why  ?— it's  good  for  her." 

"  I  didn't  mean  the  walk." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  171 

"I'd  blush  if  there  was  light  enough  to 
make  it  any  use,  Mrs.  Marland." 

"  Oh,  but  I  know  there's  something.  You 
don't  go  there  every  evening  to  look  for  a 
dead  lady,  Mr.  Merceron." 

Charlie  stopped  short,  and  took  his  cigar 
from  his  mouth. 

"What?  "  he  asked,  a  little  abruptly. 

"  Well,  I  shall  follow  you  some  day,  and  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  I  met — not  Agatha 
—but " 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Charlie,  with  an  uncertain 
smile. 

"  Why,  poor  Miss  Bushell ! " 

Charlie  laughed  and  replaced  his  cigar. 

"What  are  we  standing  still  for?"  he 
said. 

"  I  don't  know.  You  stopped.  She'd  be 
such  an  ideal  match  for  you." 

"  Then  I  should  never  have  done  for  you, 
Mrs.  Marland." 

"  My  dear  boy,  I  was  married  when  you 
were  still  in  Eton  collars." 

They  had  completed  the  circuit  of  the 
garden,  and  now  approached  where  Lady 
Merceron  sat,  enveloped  in  a  shawl. 

"  Charlie ! "  she  called.     "  Here's  a  letter 


172  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

from  Victor  Sutton.  He's  coming  to-mor- 
row." 

"  I  didn't  know  you'd  asked  him,"  said 
Charlie,  with  no  sign  of  pleasure  at  the  news. 
Victor  had  been  at  school  and  college  with 
Charlie,  and  often,  in  his  holidays,  at  the 
Court,  for  he  was  Sir  Victor's  godson.  Yet 
Charlie  did  not  love  him.  For  the  rest,  he 
was  very  rich,  and  was  understood  to  cut 
something  of  a  figure  in  London  society. 

"Mr.  Sutton?  Oh,  I  know  him,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Marland.     "He's  charming!" 

"Then  you  shall  entertain  him,"  said 
Charlie.     "  I  resign  him." 

"  I  can't  think  why  you're  not  more  pleased 
to  have  him  here,  Charlie,"  remarked  Lady 
Merceron.  "  He's  very  popular  in  London, 
isn't  he,  Vansittart  ?  " 

"  I've  met  him  at  some  very  good  houses," 
answered  Mr.  Vansittart.  And  that,  he 
seemed  to  imply,  is  better  than  mere  popu- 
larity. 

"  The  Bushells  were  delighted  with  him 
last  time  he  was  here,"  continued  Lady 
Merceron. 

"  There  !  A  rival  for  you  !  "  Mrs.  Marland 
whispered. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  173 

Charlie  laughed  cheerfully.  Sutton  would 
be  no  rival  of  his,  he  thought ;  and  if  he 
and  Millie  liked  one  another,  by  all  means 
let  them  take  one  another.  A  month  before 
he  would  hardly  have  dismissed  the  ques- 
tion in  so  summary  a  fashion,  for  the  habit 
of  regarding  Millie  as  a  possibility  and  her 
readiness  as  a  fact  had  grown  strong  by  the 
custom  of  years,  and,  far  as  he  was  from  a 
passion,  he  might  not  have  enjoyed  seeing 
her  allegiance  transferred  to  Victor  Sutton. 
Certainly  he  would  have  suffered  defeat  from 
that  hand  with  very  bad  grace.  Now,  how- 
ever, everything  was  changed. 

"  Vansittart,"  said  Lady  Merceron,  "  Char- 
lie and  I  want  to  consult  you  (she  often 
coupled  Charlie's  hypothetical  desire  for 
advice  with  her  own  actual  one  in  appeals 
to  Mr.  Vansittart)  about  Mr.  Prime's  rent." 

"  Oh,  at  the  old  farm  ?  " 

"  Yes.     He  wants  another  reduction." 

"  He'll  want  to  be  paid  for  staying  there 
next." 

"  Well,  poor  man,  he's  had  to  take  lodgers 
this  summer — a  thing  he's  never  done  be- 
fore.    Charlie,  did  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Charlie,  interrupting  an  ani- 


174  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

mated  conversation  which  he  had  started 
with  Mrs.  Marland. 

"  Do  you  know  who  they  are  ?  "  pursued 
his  mother,  wandering  from  Mr.  Prime's 
rent  to  the  more  interesting  subject  of  his 
lodgers. 

"  Ladies  from  London,"  answered  Charlie. 

"  Rather  vague,"  commented  Mr.  Yansit- 
tart.    "  Young  ladies  or  old  ladies,  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Why  does  he  want  to  know  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Marland ;  but  chaff  had  about  as  much 
effect  on  Mr.  Yansittart  as  it  would  have 
on  an  ironclad.  He  seemed  not  to  hear, 
and  awaited  an  answer  with  a  bland  smile. 
In  truth,  he  thought  Mrs.  Marland  a  silly 
woman. 

"  Young,  I  believe,"  answered  Charlie,  in 
a  careless  tone. 

"  It's  curious  I've  not  seen  them  about," 
said  Lady  Merceron.  "  I  pass  the  farm  al- 
most every  day.     Who  are  they,  Charlie  ?  " 

"  One's  a  Miss  Wallace.  She's  engaged  to 
Willie  Prime." 

"  To  Willie  ?     Fancy ! " 

"H'm!  I  think,"  remarked  Mr.  Yansit- 
tart, "  that,  from  the  point  of  view  of  a  re- 
duction of  rent,  these  lodgers  are  a  delusion. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  175 

Of  course  she  stays  with  Prime  if  she's  go- 
ing to  marry  his  son." 

"  Fancy  Willie  !  "  reiterated  Lady  Merce- 
ron.  "  Surely  he  can't  afford  to  marry  ? 
He's  in  a  bank,  you  know,  Vansittart,  and 
he  only  gets  a  hundred  and  twenty  pounds  a 
year." 

"  One  blessing  of  the  country  is  that  every- 
body knows  his  neighbor's  income,"  ob- 
served Mr.  Vansittart. 

"Perhaps  the  lady  has  money,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Marland.  "  But,  Mr.  Merceron,  who's 
the  other  lady  ?  " 

"  A  friend  of  Miss  Wallace's,  I  believe.  I 
don't  know  her  name." 

"  Oh,  they're  merely  friends  of  Prime's  ?  " 
Mr.  Vansittart  concluded.  "  If  that's  all  he 
bases  his  claim  for  a  reduction  on " 

"  Hang  it !  He  might  as  well  have  it,"  in- 
terrupted Charlie.  "  He  talks  to  me  about 
it  for  half  an  hour  every  time  we  meet." 

"  But,  my  dear  Charlie,  you  have  more  time 
than  money  to  waste — at  least,  so  it  seems." 

His  uncle's  sarcasm  never  affected  Char- 
lie's temper. 

"  I'll  turn  him  on  to  you,  uncle,"  he  re- 
plied, "  and  you  can  see  how  you  like  it." 


176  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"I'll  go  and  call  on  him  to-morrow. 
You'd  better  come  too,  Charlie." 

"And  then  you  can  see  the  ladies  from 
London,"  added  Mrs.  Marland.  "Perhaps 
the  one  who  isn't  young  Mr.  Prime's  will  be 
interesting." 

"  Or,"  said  Charlie,  "  as  mostly  happens  in 
this  woeful  world,  the  one  who  is." 

"I  think  the  less  we  see  of  that  sort  of 
person  at  all,  the  better,"  observed  Lady 
Merceron,  with  gentle  decision.  "  They  can 
hardly  be  quite  what  we're  accustomed  to." 

"  That  sort  of  person !  " 

Charlie  went  to  bed  with  the  phrase  ring- 
ing in  his  horror-struck  ears.  If  to  be  the 
most  beautiful,  the  most  charming,  and  the 
most  refined,  the  daintiest,  the  wittiest  and 
prettiest,  the  kindest  and  the  sweetest,  the 
merriest  and  most  provoking  creature  in  the 
whole  world — if  to  be  all  this  were  yet  not 
to  weigh  against  being  "  that  sort  of  person  " 
— if  it  were  not,  indeed,  to  outweigh,  banish, 
and  obliterate  everything  else  —  why,  the 
world  was  not  fit  to  live  in,  and  he  no  true 
Merceron  !  For  the  Merceron  men  had  al- 
ways pleased  themselves. 


CHAPTER  in 

ALL  NONSENSE 

On  the  evening-  of  the  next  day,  while  the 
sun  was  still  on  the  Pool,  and  its  waters, 
forgetful  of  darker  moods  and  bygone  trage- 
dies, smiled  under  the  tickling  of  darting 
golden  gleams,  a  girl  sat  on  the  broad  low- 
est step  of  the  temple.  She  had  rolled  the 
sleeves  of  her  white  gown  above  her  elbow, 
up  well-nigh  to  her  shoulder,  and,  the  after- 
noon being  sultry,  from  time  to  time  dipped 
her  arms  in  the  water  and,  taking  them  out 
again,  amused  herself  by  watching  the 
bright  drops  race  down  to  her  rosy  finger- 
tips. The  sport  was  good,  apparently,  for 
she  laughed  and  flung  back  her  head  so 
that  the  stray  locks  of  hair  might  not 
spoil  her  sight  of  it.  On  either  side  of  this 
lowest  step  there  was  a  margin  of  smooth 
level  grass,  and,  being  unable  as  she  sat  to 

bathe  both    arms    at    once,   presently   she 
12 


178  COMEDIES  OF   COURTSHIP 

moved  on  to  the  grass  and  lay  down,  sink- 
ing her  elbows  in  the  pond  and  leaning  her 
face  over  the  edge  of  it.  The  posture  had 
another  advantage  she  had  not  thought  of, 
and  she  laughed  again  when  she  saw  her 
own  eyes  twinkling  at  her  from  the  depths. 
As  she  lay  there  a  longing  came  upon 
her. 

"  If  I  could  be  sure  he  wouldn't  come  I'd 
dip  my  feet,"  she  murmured. 

As,  however,  he  had  come  every  evening 
for  a  fortnight  past  the  fancy  was  not  to  be 
indulged,  and  she  consoled  herself  by  a 
deeper  dive  yet  of  her  arms  and  by  droop- 
ing her  head  till  her  nose  and  the  extreme 
fringe  of  her  eyelashes  were  wetted,  and  the 
stray  locks  floated  on  either  side. 

Presently,  as  she  still  looked,  she  saw  an- 
other shadow  on  the  water,  and  exchanged 
with  her  image  a  confidential  glance. 

"  You  again  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  other  shadow  nodded. 

"  Why  didn't  you  come  in  the  canoe  ?  " 

"  Because  people  see  it." 

It  struck  her  that  her  attitude  was  uncon- 
ventional, and  by  a  lithe  complicated  move- 
ment,  whereof    Charlie   noticed    only    the 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  179 

elegance  and  not  the  details,  she  swept 
round  and,  sitting,  looked  up  at  him. 

"  I  know  who  she  was,"  she  observed. 

"  She  very  nearly  knew  who  you  were. 
You  oughtn't  to  have  come  to  the  win- 
dow." 

"  She  thought  I  was  the  ghost." 

"  You  shouldn't  reckon  on  people  being 
foolish." 

"  Shouldn't  I  ?  Yet  I  reckoned  on  your 
coming— or  there'd  have  been  some  more  of 
me  in  the  water." 

"  I  wish  I  were  an  irregular  man,"  said 
Charlie. 

She  was  slowly  turning  down  her  sleeves, 
and,  ignoring  his  remark,  said,  with  a  ques- 
tion in  her  tones  : 

"Nettie  "Wallace  says  that  Willie  Prime 
says  that  everybody  says  that  you're  going 
to  marry  that  girl." 

"  I  believe  it's  quite  true." 

"  Oh  !  "  and  she  looked  across  the  Pool. 

"  True  that  everybody  says  so,"  added 
Charlie.  "  Why  do  you  turn  down  your 
sleeves  ?  " 

"  How  funny  I  must  have  looked,  sprawl- 
ing on  the  bank  like  that ! "  she  remarked. 


180  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Awful ! "  said  Charlie,  sitting-  down. 

She  looked  at  him  with  uneasiness  in  her 
eye. 

"Nothing-  but  an  ankle,  I  swear,"  he  an- 
swered. 

She  blushed  and  smiled. 

"  I  think  you  should  whistle,  or  some- 
thing, as  you  come." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Charlie,  with  decision. 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  him  with  a  seri- 
ous face,  or  one  that  tried  to  be  serious. 

"  Why  do  you  come  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Why  do  I  eat  ?  "  he  returned. 

"  And  yet  you  were  angry  the  first  time." 

"Nobody  likes  to  be  caught  ranting  out 
poetry — especially  his  own." 

"I  believe  you  were  frightened — you 
thought  I  was  Agatha.  The  poetry  was 
about  her,  wasn't  it?  " 

"It's  not  at  all  a  bad  poem,"  observed 
Charlie. 

"  You  remember  I  liked  it  so  much  that 
I  clapped  my  hands." 

"  And  I  jumped ! " 

The  girl  laughed. 

"Ah,  well,"  she  said,  "it's  time  to  go 
home." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  181 

"  Oh,  dear,  no,"  said  Charlie. 

"  But  I've  promised  to  be  early,  because 
Willie  Prime's  coming,  and  I'm  to  be  intro- 
duced to  him." 

"Willie  Prime  can  wait.  He's  got  Miss 
Wallace  to  comfort  him,  and  I've  got  no- 
body to  comfort  me." 

"  Oh,  yes.     Miss  Bushell." 

"  You  know  her  name  ?  " 

"  Yes — and  yours — your  surname,  I  mean  ; 
you  told  me  the  other." 

"  That's  more  than  you've  done  for  me." 

"  I  told  you  my  name  was  Agatha." 

"  Ah,  but  that  was  a  joke.  I'd  been  talk- 
ing about  Agatha  Merceron." 

"  Very  well.  I'm  sorry  it  doesn't  satisfy 
you.     If  you  won't  believe  me ! " 

"  But  your  surname  ?  " 

"  Oh,  mine  ?     Why,  mine's  Brown." 

"  Brown  !  "  re-echoed  Charlie,  with  a  tinge 
of  disappointment  in  his  tone. 

"  Don't  you  like  it  ?  "  asked  Miss  Agatha 
Brown  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  it  will  do  for  the  present,"  laughed 
Charlie. 

"  Well,  I  don't  mean  to  keep  it  all  my 
life.    I've  spent  to-day,  Mr.   Merceron,  in 


182  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

spying  out  your  house.  Nettie  Wallace  and 
I  ventured  quite  near.     It's  very  pretty." 

"  Rather  dilapidated,  I'm  afraid." 

"  What's  the  time,  Mr.  Merceron  ?  " 

"  Half -past  six.     Oh,  by  Jove  ! " 

"  Well  ?     Afraid  of  seeing-  poor  Agatha  ?  " 

"  I  should  see  nobody  but  you,  if  you 
were  here.  No.  I  forgot  that.  I've  got  to 
meet  someone  at  the  station  at  a  quarter- 
past  seven." 

"Oh,  do  tell  me  who  ?  " 

"You'd  be  none  the  wiser.  It's  a  Mr. 
Victor  Sutton." 

"Victor  Sutton!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
glance  at  Charlie  which  passed  unnoticed  by 
him.     "  Is  he  a  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

"I  suppose  so.  Of  my  family's,  any- 
how." 

"  Good-by.    I'm  going,"  she  announced. 

"  You'll  be  here  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes.    For  the  last  time." 

She  dropped  this  astounding  thunderbolt 
on  Charlie's  head  as  though  it  had  been  the 
most  ordinary  remark  in  the  world. 

"The     last    time!    Oh,    Miss "    No: 

somehow  he  could  not  lay  his  tongue  to  that 
"  Miss  Brown." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  1S3 

"  I  can't  spend  all  my  life  in  Lang  Marsh," 
said  she. 

"  Agatha,"  he  burst  out. 

"  No,  no.  This  is  not  the  last  time. 
Sha'n't  we  keep  that  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a 
provokingly  light-hearted  smile. 

"  You  promise  to  be  here  to-morrow  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes." 

"  I  shall  have  something  to  say  to  you 
then,"  Charlie  announced  with  a  significant 
air. 

"  Oh,  you  never  lack  conversation." 

"  You'll  be  here  at  five  ?  " 

"  Precisely,"  she  answered  with  mock 
gravity  ;  "  and  now  I'm  gone !  " 

Charlie  took  off  his  straw  hat,  stretched 
out  his  right  hand,  and  took  hers.  For  a 
moment  she  drew  back,  but  he  looked  very 
handsome  and  gallant  as  he  bowed  his  head 
down  to  her  hand,  and  she  checked  the 
movement. 

"  Oh,  well !  "  she  murmured  ;  she  was  pro- 
testing against  any  importance  being  at- 
tached to  the  incident. 

Charlie,  having  paid  his  homage,  walked, 
or  rather  ran,  swiftly  away.  To  begin  with, 
he  had  none  too  much  time  if  he  was  to 


184  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

meet  Victor  Sutton ;  secondly,  he  was  full 
of  a  big  resolve,  and  that  generally  makes 
a  man  walk  fast. 

The  lady  pursued  a  more  leisurely  prog- 
ress. Swinging  her  hat  in  her  hand,  she 
made  her  way  through  the  tangled  wood 
back  to  the  high-road,  and  turned  towards 
Mr.  Prime's  farm.  She  went  slowly  along, 
thinking  perhaps  of  the  attractive  young 
fellow  she  had  left  behind  her,  wondering 
perhaps  why  she  had  promised  to  meet  him 
again.  She  did  not  know  why,  for  there 
was  sure  to  happen  at  that  last  meeting  the 
one  thing  which  she  did  not,  she  supposed, 
wish  to  happen.  However,  a  promise  is  a 
promise.  She  heard  the  sound  of  wheels 
behind  her,  and,  turning,  found  the  farmer's 
spring-cart  hard  on  her  heels.  The  farmer 
was  driving,  and  by  his  side  sat  a  nice- 
looking  girl  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  fash- 
ion. On  the  back  seat  was  a  young  man  in 
a  very  light  suit,  with  a  fine  check  pattern, 
and  a  new  pair  of  brown  leather  shoes. 
The  cart  pulled  up. 

"  We  can  make  room  for  ye,  Miss,"  said 
old  Mr.  Prime. 

Nettie  Wallace  jumped  up  and  stood  with 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  185 

her  foot  on  the  step.  Willie  Prime  jumped 
down  and  effected  her  transfer  to  the  back 
seat.  Agatha  climbed  up  beside  the  farmer 
and  stretched  her  hand  back  to  greet  Willie. 
Willie  took  it  rather  timidly.  He  did  not 
quite  "savvy"  (as  he  expressed  it  to  him- 
self) ;  his  fiancee's  friend  was  very  simply 
attired,  infinitely  more  simply  than  Nettie 
herself.  Nettie  had  told  him  that  her  friend 
was  "  off  and  on  "  (a  vague  and  rather  ob- 
scure qualification  of  the  statement)  in  the 
same  line  as  herself  —  namely,  Court  and 
high-class  dressmaking.  Yet  there  was  a 
difference  between  Nettie  and  her  friend. 

"Anybody  else  arrived  by  the  train?" 
asked  Agatha. 

"  A  visitor  for  the  Court.  A  good-looking 
gentleman,  wasn't  he,  Willie  ?  " 

Nettie  was  an  elegant  creature  and,  but 
for  the  "  gentleman  "  and  that  slight  but  in- 
eradicable twang  that  clings  like  Nessus' 
shirt  to  the  cockney,  all  effort  and  all  educa- 
tion notwithstanding  (it  will  even  last  three 
generations,  and  is  audible,  perhaps,  now 
and  then  in  the  House  of  Lords),  her  speech 
was  correct  and  even  dainty  in  its  prim 
nicety. 


186  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"Ah!  "said  Agatha. 

"  His  name's  Sutton,"  said  Willie ;  "  Mr. 
Charles — young-  Mr.  Merceron — told  me  so 
when  he  was  talking-  to  me  on  the  platform." 

"  You  know  young  Mr.  Merceron  ?  "  asked 
Agatha. 

"Why,  they  was  boys  together,"  inter- 
rupted the  old  farmer,  who  made  little  of 
the  refinements  of  speech.  In  his  youth  no 
one,  from  the  lord  to  the  laborer,  spoke 
grammar  in  the  country.  "  Used  to  larn  to 
swim  together  in  the  Pool,  didn't  you, 
Willie?" 

"  I  must  have  a  dip  there  to-morrow," 
cried  Willie  ;  and  Agatha  wondered  what 
time  he  would  choose.  "  And  I'll  take  you 
there,  Nettie.     Ever  been  yet  ?  " 

"  No.  They — they  say  it's  haunted,  don't 
they,  Willie  ?  " 

"  That's  nonsense,"  said  Willie.  London 
makes  a  man  sceptical.  The  old  farmer 
shook  his  head  and  grunted  doubtfully.  His 
mother  had  seen  poor  Agatha  Merceron ; 
this  was  before  the  farmer  was  born — a  little 
while  before — and  the  shock  had  come  nigh 
to  being  most  serious  to  him.  The  whole 
countryside  knew  it. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  187 

"  Why  do  you  call  it  nonsense,  Mr. 
Prime  ?  "  asked  Agatha. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  Miss " 

"  Miss  Brown,  Willie,"  said  Nettie. 

"  Miss  Brown.  Anyway,  we  needn't  go 
the  time  the  ghost  comes." 

"  I  should  certainly  avoid  that,"  laughed 
Agatha. 

"  We'll  go  in  the  morning,  Nettie,  and  I'll 
have  my  swim  in  the  evening." 

Agatha  frowned.  It  would  be  particularly 
inconvenient  if  Willie  Prime  took  his  swim 
in  the  evening. 

"  Oh,  don't,  Willie,"  cried  Nettie.  "  She- 
she  might  do  you  some  harm." 

Willie  was  hard  to  persuade.  He  was  not 
above  liking  to  appear  a  daredevil ;  and 
the  discussion  was  still  raging  when  they 
reached  the  farm.  The  two  girls  went  up- 
stairs to  the  little  rooms  which  they  occu- 
pied. Agatha  turned  into  hers,  and  Nettie 
Wallace  followed  her. 

"  Your  Willie  is  very  nice,"  said  Agatha, 
sitting  on  her  bed. 

Nettie  smiled  with  pleasure. 

"  And  now  that  you've  other  company  I 
shall  go." 


1S8  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  You're  going,  Miss  ?  " 
"Not  Miss." 

Nettie  laughed. 

"  I  forget  sometimes,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  you  must  remember  just  over  to- 
morrow. I  shall  go  next  day.  I  must  meet 
my  grandfather  in  London." 

Nettie  offered  no  opposition.  On  the  con- 
trary, she  appeared  rather  relieved. 

"  Nettie,  did  you  like  Mr.  Sutton's  looks  ?  " 
asked  Agatha  after  a  pause. 

"  He's  too  black  and  blue  for  my  taste," 
answered  Nettie. 

Willie  Prime  was  red  and  yellow. 

"  Blue  ?     Oh,  you  mean  his  cheeks  ?  " 

"Yes.  But  he's  a  handsome  gentleman 
all  the  same  ;  and  you  should  have  seen  his 
luggage!  Such  a  dressing-bag — cost  fifty 
pounds,  I  daresay." 

"  Oh,  dear,  me,"  said  Agatha.  "  Yes, 
Nettie,  I  shall  go  the  day  after  to  -  mor- 
row." 

"  Mr.  Merceron  asked  to  be  introduced  to 
me,"  said  Nettie  proudly.  "  And  he  asked 
where  you  were — he  said  he'd  seen  you  at 
the  window." 

"  Did  he  ?  "  said  Agatha  negligently ;  and 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  189 

Nettie,  finding  the  conversation  flag,  retired 
to  her  own  room. 

Agatha  sat  a  moment  longer  on  the  bed. 

"  What  a  very  deceitful  young  man,"  she 
exclaimed  at  last.  "  I  must  be  a  very  strict 
secret  indeed.  Well,  I  suppose  I  should 
be." 


CHAPTEE  IV 

A  CATASTROPHE  AT  THE  POOL 

Mr.  Yansittart  Merceron  was  not  quite 
sure  that  Victor  Sutton  had  any  business  to 
call  him  "  Merceron."  He  was  nearly  twenty 
years  older  than  Victor,  and  a  man  of  con- 
siderable position  ;  nor  was  he,  as  some 
middle-aged  men  are,  nattered  by  the  impli- 
cation of  contemporaneousness  carried  by 
the  mode  of  address.  But  it  is  hard  to  give 
a  hint  to  a  man  who  has  no  inkling  that 
there  is  room  for  one ;  and  when  Mr.  Van- 
sittart  addressed  Victor  as  "  Mr.  Sutton " 
the  latter  graciously  told  him  to  "  hang  the 
Mister."  Reciprocity  was  inevitable,  and 
the  elder  man  asked  himself,  with  a  sar- 
donic grin,  how  soon  he  would  be  "  Van." 

"  Coming  to  bathe,  Merceron  ?  "  he  heard 
under  his  window  at  eight  o'clock  the  next 
morning.     "  We're  off  to  the  Pool." 

Mr.  Vansittart  shouted  an  emphatic  nega- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  191 

tive,  and  the  two  young-  fellows  started  off 
by  themselves.  Charlie's  manner  was  af- 
fected by  the  ceremonious  courtesy  which  a 
well-bred  host  betrays  towards  a  guest  not 
very  well-beloved,  but  Victor  did  not  notice 
this.  It  seldom  occurred  to  him  that  peo- 
ple did  not  like  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  was  saying,  "  I'm  just  twenty- 
nine.  I've  had  my  fling,  Charlie,  and  now  I 
shall  get  to  business." 

Charlie  was  relieved  to  find  that  accord- 
ing to  this  reckoning  he  had  several  more 
years'  "  fling  "  before  him. 

"  Next  year,"  pursued  Victor,  "  I  shall 
marry  ;  then  I  shall  go  into  Parliament,  and 
then  I  shall  go  ahead." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  engaged." 

"  No,  I'm  not,  but  I'm  going  to  be.  I  can 
please  myself,  you  see ;  I've  got  lots  of  coin." 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  can  you  please  the  lady  ?  " 
asked  Charlie. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  began  Victor,  "  when 
you've  seen  a  little  more  of  the  world " 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Charlie.  "  Why, 
hullo!    Who's  that?" 

A  dripping  head  and  a  blowing  mouth 
were  visible  in  the  middle  of  the  Pool. 


192  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Willie  Prime  by  Jove !  'Morning,  Wil- 
lie ;  "  and  Charlie  set  about  flinging-  off  his 
flannels,  Victor  following  his  example  in  a 
more  leisurely  fashion. 

Willie  Prime  was  a  little  puzzled  to  know 
how  he  ought  to  treat  Charlie.  "  Charlie  " 
he  had  been  in  very  old  days — then  Master 
Charlie  (that  was  Willie's  mother's  doing) — 
then  Mr.  Charles.  But  now  Willie  had  set 
up  for  himself.  He  had  played  billiards 
with  a  lord,  and  football  against  the  Syba- 
rites, and,  incidentally,  hobnobbed  with  quite 
great  people.  It  is  not  very  easy  to  assert  a 
social  position  when  one  has  nothing  on,  and 
only  one's  head  out  of  water,  but  Willie  did  it. 

"  Good-morning — er — Merceron,"  said  he. 

Victor  heard  him,  and  put  up  his  eyeglass 
in  amazement ;  but  he,  in  his  turn,  had  only 
a  shirt  on,  and  the  hauteur  was  a  failure. 
Charlie  utterly  failed  to  notice  the  incident. 

"Is  it  cold ?"  he  shouted. 

"  Beastly,"  answered  Willie.  The  man 
who  has  got  in  always  tells  the  man  who  is 
going  to  get  in  that  it  is  "  beastly  cold." 

"  Here  goes ! "  cried  Charlie  ;  and  a  min- 
ute later  he  was  treading  water  by  Willie's 
side. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  193 

"  Miss  Wallace  all  fit  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Thank  you,  yes,  she's  all  right." 

"  And  her  friend  ?  " 

"  All  right,  I  believe." 

"  And  when  is  it  to  be,  old  fellow  ?  " 

"  Soon  as  I  get  a  rise." 

"  What  ?  "  asked  the  unsophisticated  Char- 
lie, who  knew  the  phrase  chiefly  in  connec- 
tion with  fish. 

"  A  rise  of  screw,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  ah,  yes — what  a  fool  I  am  !  "  and 
Charlie  disappeared  beneath  the  waves. 

When  they  were  all  on  the  bank,  drying, 
Willie,  encouraged  by  not  being  discouraged 
(save  by  Sutton's  silence)  in  his  advances, 
ventured  further,  and  asked  in  a  joking 
tone  : 

"  And  aren't  you  marked  off  yet  ?  We've 
been  expecting  to  hear  of  it  for  the  last 
twelve  months." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Why,  you  and  Miss  Bushell." 

Charlie  struggled  through  his  shirt,  and 
then  answered,  with  his  first  touch  of  dis- 
tance : 

"Nothing  in  it.     People've  got  no  busi- 
ness to  gossip." 
13 


194  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  It's  damned  impertinent,"  observed  Vic- 
tor Sutton  in  slow  and  deliberate  tones. 

Willie  flushed. 

"  I  beg-  pardon,"  lie  said  gruffly.  "  I  only- 
repeated  what  I  heard." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  no  harm's  done,"  cried 
Charlie.     "  Who  was  the  fool  ?  " 

"  Well— in  fact— my  father." 

The  situation  was  awkward,  but  they 
wisely  eluded  it  by  laughter.  But  a  thought 
struck  Charlie. 

"  I  say,  did  your  father  state  it  as  a  fact  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  ;  but  as  a  certainty,  you  know." 

"  When  ?  " 

"  Last  night  at  supper." 

Charlie's  brow  clouded.     Miss  B that 

is,  Agatha,  was  certain  to  have  been  at  sup- 
per. However,  all  that  could  be  put  right 
in  the  evening  —  that  one  blessed  evening 
left  to  him.  He  looked  at  Willie  and  opened 
his  mouth  to  speak ;  but  he  shut  it  again. 
It  did  not  seem  to  him  that  he  could  ques- 
tion Willie  Prime  about  the  lady.  She  had 
chosen  to  tell  him  nothing,  and  her  will  was 
his  law.  But  he  was  yearning  to  know  what 
she  was  and  how  she  came  there.  He  re- 
frained ;    and    this    time  virtue  really  had 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  105 

a  reward  beyond  itself,  for  Willie  would 
blithely  have  told  him  that  she  was  a  dress- 
maker (he  called  Nettie,  however,  the  mana- 
ger of  a  Court  modiste's  business),  and  that 
would  not  have  pleased  Charlie. 

It  was  all  very  well  for  Charlie  to  count  on 
that  blessed  evening ;  but  he  reckoned  with- 
out his  host — or  rather  without  his  guests. 

The  Bushells  came  to  lunch,  Millie  driv- 
ing her  terrified  mother  in  a  lofty  gig  ;  and 
at  lunch  Millie  recounted  her  vision  of 
Agatha  Merceron.  She  did  not  believe  it, 
of  course  ;  but  it  was  queer,  wasn't  it  ?  Vic- 
tor Sutton  rose  to  the  bait  at  once. 

"  We'll  investigate  it,"  he  cried.  "  Mer- 
ceron" (he  meant  the  patient  Mr.  Vansit- 
tart),  "  didn't  you  once  write  an  article  on 
'  Apparitions  '  for  Intellect  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  proved  there  were  none,"  answered 
Mr.  Yansittart. 

"  That's  impossible,  you  know,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Marland  gently. 

"We'll  put  you  to  the  proof  this  very 
evening,"  declared  Mr.  Sutton. 

Charlie  started. 

"  Are  you  game,  Miss  Bushell  ?  "  con- 
tinued Victor. 


196  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Ye — yes,  if  you'll  keep  quite  near  me," 
answered  Millie,  with  a  playful  shudder. 
Charlie  reflected  how  ill  playfulness  became 
her,  and  frowned.  But  Millie  was  pleased 
to  see  him  frown  ;  she  enjoyed  showing  him 
that  other  men  liked  to  keep  quite  near  to 
her. 

"  Then  this  evening  we'll  go  in  a  body  to 
the  Pool." 

"  I  shall  not  go,"  shuddered  Mrs.  Mar- 
land. 

"  An  hour  after  sunset ! " 

"  Half  an  hour.  She  might  be  early — and 
we'll  stay  half  an  hour  after.  We'll  give  her 
a  fair  show." 

"  Come,"  thought  Charlie.  "  I  shall  get 
an  hour  with  Agatha." 

"  You'll  come,  Charlie  ?  "  asked  Victor. 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  he  answered,  hiding  all 
signs  of  vexation.  He  could  get  back  by 
six  and  join  the  party.  But  why  was  Mrs. 
Marland  looking  at  him  ? 

The  first  step,  however,  towards  getting 
back  is  to  get  there,  and  Charlie  found  this 
none  so  easy.  After  lunch  came  lawn-ten- 
nis, and  he  was  impressed.  Mr.  Vansittart 
played  a  middle-aged  game,  and  Victor  had 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  197 

found  little  leisure  for  this  modest  sport 
among-  his  more  ambitious  amusements. 
Charlie  had  to  balance  Millie  Bushell,  and 
he  spent  a  very  hot  and  wearying-  afternoon. 
They  would  go  on :  Victor  declared  it  was 
good  for  him,  Uncle  Van  delighted  in  a 
hard  game  (it  appeared  to  be  a  very  hard 
game  to  him  from  the  number  of  strokes  he 
missed),  and  Millie  grew  in  vigor,  ubiquity, 
and  (it  must  be  added)  intensity  of  color  as 
the  hours  wore  away.  It  was  close  on  five 
before  Charlie,  with  a  groan,  could  throw 
down  his  racquet. 

"  Poor  boy  !  "  said  Mrs.  Marland. 

"  Charlie,  dear,"  called  Lady  Merceron, 
who  had  been  talking  comfortably  to  Mrs. 
Bushell  in  the  shade,  "  come  and  hand  the 
tea.  I'm  sure  you  must  all  want  some. 
Millie,  my  dear,  how  hot  you  look  !  " 

"  She  never  will  take  any  care  of  her  com- 
plexion," complained  Mrs.  Bushell. 

"Take  care  of  your  stom — your  health — 
and  your  complexion  will  take  care  of  it- 
self," observed  Mr.  Vansittart. 

"  Charlie  !  Where  is  the  boy  ?  "  called 
Lady  Merceron  again. 

The  boy  was  gone.    He  was  flying  as  fast 


198  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

as  his  legs  would  take  him  to  the  Pool. 
Where  was  that  cherished  interview  now  ? 
He  could  hope  only  for  a  few  wretched  min- 
utes— hardly  enough  to  say  good-by  once 
— before  he  must  hustle — yes,  positively 
hustle — Agatha  out  of  sight.  He  had  heard 
that  abominable  Sutton  remark  that  they 
might  as  well  start  directly  after  tea. 

He  was  breathless  when  he  burst  through 
the  willows.  But  there  he  came  to  a  sud- 
den, a  dead  stop,  and  then  drew  back  into 
shelter  again.  There  on  the  bank,  scarcely 
a  dozen  feet  from  it,  sat  two  people — a  young 
man  with  his  arm  round  a  young  woman's 
waist.  Willie  Prime  and  Nettie  Wallace, 
"  by  all  that's  damnable !  "  as  Sir  Peter  says ! 
Charlie  said  something  quite  as  forcible. 

He  felt  for  his  watch,  but  he  had  left  it 
with  his  waistcoat  on  the  lawn.  What  was 
the  time  ?  Was  it  going  quickly  or  slowly  ? 
Could  he  afford  to  wait,  or  must  he  run  round 
to  the  road  and  intercept  Agatha  ?  Five 
minutes  passed  in  vacillation. 

"  I'll  go  and  stop  her,"  he  said,  and  began 
a  cautious  retreat.  As  he  moved  he  heard 
Willie's  voice. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  let's  be  off,"  said  Willie. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  199 

Nettie  rose  with  a  sigh  of  content,  adjust- 
ed her  hat  coquettishly,  and  smoothed  her 
skirts. 

"I'm  ready,  Willie.  It's  been  beautiful, 
hasn't  it  ?  " 

They  came  towards  Charlie.  Evidently 
they  intended  to  regain  the  road  by  the  same 
path  as  he  had  chosen.  Indeed,  from  that 
side  of  the  Pool  there  was  no  choice,  unless 
one  clambered  round  by  the  muddy  bank. 

"  We  must  make  haste,"  said  Willie. 
"  Father'll  want  his  tea." 

If  they  made  haste  they  would  be  close  on 
his  heels.  Charlie  shrank  back  behind  a 
willow  and  let  them  go  by;  then,  quick  as 
thought,  rushed  to  his  canoe  and  paddled 
across — up  the  steps  and  into  the  temple  he 
rushed.  She  wasn't  there  !  Fate  is  too  hard 
for  the  best  of  us  sometimes.  Charlie  sat 
down  and,  stretching  out  his  legs,  stared 
gloomily  at  his  toes. 

Thus  he  must  have  sat  nearly  ten  minutes, 
when  a  head  was  put  round  the  Corinthian 
pilaster  of  the  doorway. 

"  Poor  boy  !    Am  I  very  late  ?  " 

Charlie  leapt  up  and  forward,  breathlessly 
blurting  out  joy  tempered  by  uneasiness. 


200  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Agatha  gathered  the  difficulty  of  the  posi- 
tion. 

"Well,"  said  she,  smiling,  "I  must  dis- 
appear, and  you  must  go  back  to  your 
friends." 

"No,"  said  Charlie.  "I  must  talk  to 
you." 

"  But  they  may  come  any  moment." 

"  I  don't  care ! " 

"  Oh,  but  I  do.  Charlie,  what's  the  mat- 
ter ?  Oh,  didn't  I  ever  call  you  '  Charlie ' 
before  ?  Well,  Charlie,  if  you  love  me  (yes, 
I  know !)  you'll  not  let  these  people  see  me." 

"  All  right !  Come  along.  I'll  take  you 
to  the  road  and  come  back.  Hullo  !  What's 
that?" 

"  It's  them  ! "  exclaimed  the  lady. 

It  was.  The  pair  dived  back  into  the 
temple.  On  the  opposite  bank  stood  Millie 
Bushell,  Mr.  Yansittart,  and  Victor  Sutton. 

"  Hullo,  there,  Charlie,  you  thief !  "  cried 
Victor.  "  Bring  that  canoe  over  here.  Miss 
Bushell  wants  to  get  to  the  temple." 

"  Hush !  Don't  move  ! "  whispered  Aga- 
tha. 

"  But  they  know  I'm  here  ;  they  see  that 
confounded  canoe." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  201 

"  Charlie !  Charlie ! "  was  shouted  across 
in  three  voices. 

"  What  the  devil ,"  muttered  Charlie. 

"  They  mustn't  see  me,"  urged  Agatha. 

Victor  Sutton's  voice  rose  clear  and  dis- 
tinct. 

"I'll  unearth  him!"  he  cried.  "I  know 
the  way  round.  You  wait  here  with  Miss 
Bushell,  Merceron." 

"  Oh,  he's  coming  round ! " 

"  I  must  chance  it,"  said  Charlie,  and  he 
came  out  of  hiding.  A  cry  greeted  him. 
Victor  was  already  started,  but  stopped. 
Charlie  embarked  and  shot  across. 

"You  villain!  You  gave  us  the  slip," 
cried  Uncle  Van. 

Miss  Bushell  began  quietly  to  embark. 
Uncle  Van  followed  her  example. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Merceron,  you'll  sink  us !  "  cried 
Millie. 

Charlie  sat  glum  and  silent.  The  situa- 
tion beat  him  completely. 

Uncle  Van  drew  back.  Millie  seized  the 
paddle  and  propelled  the  canoe  out  from 
the  bank. 

"You  come  round  with  me,  Merceron," 
called  Sutton,  and  the  two  men  turned  to 


202  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

the  path.  "  No,"  added  Victor.  "  Look 
here,  we  can  climb  round  here,"  and  he 
pointed  to  the  bank.  There  was  a  little  nar- 
row muddy  track,  but  it  was  enough. 

The  canoe  was  half-way  across  ;  the  two 
men — Victor  leading-  at  a  good  pace — were 
half-way  round.  Charlie  glanced  at  the 
window  of  the  temple  and  caught  a  fleeting 
glance  of  a  despairing  face.  "  If  you  love 
me,  they  mustn't  see  me  !  " 

"  Here,  give  me  the  paddle! "  he  exclaimed, 
and  reached  forward  for  it. 

"  No,  I  can  do  it,"  answered  Millie,  lifting 
the  instrument  out  of  his  reach. 

Charlie  stepped  forward  —  rather,  he 
jumped  forward,  as  a  man  jumps  over  a 
ditch.  There  was  a  shriek  from  Millie  ;  the 
canoe  swayed,  tottered,  and  upset.  In  a 
confused  mass,  Millie  Bushell  and  Charlie 
were  hurled  into  the  water.  Victor  and 
Uncle  Van,  hardly  five  yards  from  the  steps, 
turned  in  amazement. 

"  Help  !  help  !  "  screamed  Millie. 

"  Help ! "  echoed  Charlie.  "  I  can't  hold 
her  up.  Victor,  come  and  help  me !  Uncle 
Van,  come  along  !  " 

"  The  devil !  "  murmured  Uncle  Van. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  203 

"  Quick,  quick !  "  called  Charlie  ;  and  Vic- 
tor, with  a  vexed  laugh,  peeled  off  his  coat 
and  jumped  in.  Mr.  Vansittart  stood  with  a 
puzzled  air.  Then  a  happy  thought  struck 
him.  He  turned  and  trotted  back  the  way 
he  had  come.     He  would  get  a  rope ! 

As  he  went,  as  Victor  reached  the  strag- 
glers in  the  water,  a  slim  figure  in  white, 
with  a  smile  on  her  face,  stole  cautiously 
from  the  temple  and  disappeared  in  the 
wood  behind.  Charlie  saw  her  go,  but  he 
held  poor  Millie's  head  remorselessly  tight 
towards  the  other  bank. 

And  that  was  the  last  he  saw  of  the  Lady 
of  the  Pool. 

Millie  Bushell  landed,  her  dripping  clothes 
clinging  round  her.  Victor  was  shivering, 
for  the  evening  had  turned  chilly.  Uncle 
Van  had  a  bit  of  rope  from  the  boat-shed  in 
his  hand,  and  a  doubtful  smile  on  his  face. 

"We'd  best  get  Miss  Bushell  home,"  he 
suggested,  and  they  started  in  gloomy  pro- 
cession. Charlie,  in  remorse,  gave  Millie 
his  arm. 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  ? "  she  murmured 
piteously.  She  was  cold,  she  was  wet,  and 
she  was  sure  that  she  looked  frightful. 


204  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"I — I  didn't  do  it  on  purpose,"  Charlie 
blurted  out  eagerly. 

"  On  purpose !  Well,  I  suppose  not,"  she 
exclaimed,  bewildered. 

Charlie  flushed.  Victor  shot  a  swift 
glance  at  him. 

Half-way  home  they  met  Mrs.  Marland, 
and  the  whole  affair  had  to  be  explained  to 
her.     Charlie  essayed  the  task. 

"  Still,  I  don't  see  how  you  managed  to 
upset  the  canoe,"  observed  Mrs.  Marland. 

"  No  more  do  I,"  said  Victor  Sutton. 

Charlie  gave  it  up. 

"I'm  so  sorry,  Millie,"  he  whispered. 
"You  must  try  to  forgive  me." 

So,  once  again,  the  coast  was  left  clear 
for  Agatha  Merceron,  if  she  came  that  night. 
But,  whether  she  did  or  not,  the  other 
Agatha  came  no  more,  and  Charlie's  great 
resolve  went  unfulfilled.  Yet  the  next  even- 
ing he  Avent  alone  to  the  temple,  and  he 
found,  lying  on  the  floor,  a  little  handker- 
chief trimmed  with  lace  and  embroidered 
with  the  name  of  "  Agatha."  This  he  put  in 
his  pocket,  thanking  heaven  that  his  desper- 
ate manoeuvre  had  kept  the  shrine  inviolate 
the  day  before. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  205 

"  Poor  Millie  ! "  said  he.  "  But  then  I  had 
to  do  it." 

"  I  hear,"  remarked  Lady  Merceron  a  few 
days  later,  "  that  one  of  Mr.  Prime's  friends 
has  left  him — not  Willie's  young-  lady — the 
other." 

"  Has  she  ?  "  asked  Charlie. 

No  one  pursued  the  subject,  and,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  Mrs.  Marland,  who  was 
sitting-  nest  Charlie,  asked  him  in  a  low 
voice  whether  he  had  been  to  the  Pool  that 
evening. 

"  No,"  answered  Charlie.  "  I  don't  go 
every  night." 

"  Oh,  poor  dear  Miss  Bushell !"  laughed 
Mrs.  Marland ;  and,  when  Charlie  looked 
inquiringly  at  her,  she  shook  her  head. 

"You  see,  I  know  something  of  young 
men,"  she  explained. 


CHAPTEE  V 

AN  UNFORESEEN  CASE 

"  I  wish  to  goodness,"  remarked  the  Rev- 
erend Sigismund  Taylor,  rubbing  the  bridge 
of  his  nose  with  a  corner  of  the  Manual, 
"  that  the  Vicar  had  never  introduced  auric- 
ular confession.  It  may  be  in  accordance 
with  the  practice  of  the  Primitive  Church, 
but — one  does  meet  with  such  very  curious 
cases.  There's  nothing  the  least  like  it  in 
the  Manual." 

He  opened  the  book  and  searched  its 
pages  over  again.  No,  the  case  had  not 
been  foreseen.  It  must  be  included  in  those 
which  were  "  left  to  the  discretion  of  the 
priest." 

"It's  a  poor  Manual,"  said  Mr.  Taylor, 
throwing  it  down  and  putting  his  hands  in 
the  pocket  of  his  cassock.  "  Poor  girl !  She 
was  quite  distressed,  too.  I  must  have  some- 
thins-  to  tell  her  when  she  comes  next  week." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  207 

Mr.  Taylor  had,  in  face  of  the  difficulty, 
taken  time  to  consider,  and  the  penitent  had 
gone  away  in  suspense.  To  represent  one- 
self as  a  dressmaker — well,  there  was  noth- 
ing very  outrageous  in  that ;  it  was  unbe- 
coming, but  venial,  to  tell  sundry  fibs  by 
way  of  supporting  the  assumed  character — 
the  Manual  was  equal  to  that ;  but  the  rest 
of  the  disclosure  was  the  c?rux.  Wrong,  no 
doubt,  was  the  conduct  —  but  how  wrong? 
That  made  all  the  difference.  And  then 
there  followed  another  question  :  What 
ought  to  be  done  ?  She  had  asked  for  ad- 
vice about  that  also,  and,  although  such 
counsel  was  not  strictly  incumbent  on  him, 
he  felt  that  he  ought  not  to  refuse  it.  Alto- 
gether he  was  puzzled.  At  eight-and-twenty 
one  cannot  be  ready  for  everything ;  yet  she 
had  implored  him  to  consult  nobody  else, 
and  decide  for  her  himself.  "  I've  such  trust 
in  you,"  she  had  said,  wiping  away  an  incip- 
ient teardrop ;  and,  although  Mr.  Taylor 
told  her  that  the  individual  was  nothing  and 
the  Office  everything,  he  had  been  rather 
gratified.  Thinking  that  a  turn  in  the  open 
air  might  clear  his  brain  and  enable  him 
better  to   grapple    with  this  very    thorny 


208  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

question,  he  changed  his  cassock  for  a  long- 
tailed  coat,  put  on  his  wide-awake,  and, 
leaving  the  precincts  of  St.  Edward  Con- 
fessor, struck  across  Park  Lane  and  along 
the  Row.  He  passed  several  people  he 
knew,  both  men  and  women  :  Mrs.  Marland 
was  there,  attended  by  two  young  men,  and, 
a  little  farther  on,  he  saw  old  Lord  Thrap- 
ston  tottering  along  on  his  stick.  Lord 
Thrapston  hated  a  parson,  and  scowled  at 
poor  Mr.  Taylor  as  he  went  by.  Mr.  Taylor 
shrank  from  meeting  his  eye,  and  hurried 
along  till  he  reached  the  Serpentine,  where 
he  stood  still  for  a  few  minutes,  drinking  in 
the  fresh  breeze.  But  the  breeze  could  not 
blow  his  puzzle  out  of  his  brain.  Was  it 
a  crime,  or  merely  an  escapade  ?  What  had 
she  said  to  the  young  man  ?  What  had 
her  feelings  been  or  become  towards  the 
young  man  ?  Moreover,  what  had  she  caused 
the  young  man's  feelings  to  be  for  her? 
When  he  came  to  think  it  over,  Mr.  Taylor 
discovered,  with  a  shock  of  surprise,  that 
on  all  these  distinctly  material  points  the 
confession  had  been  singularly  incomplete. 
He  was  ashamed  of  this,  for,  of  course, 
it  was  his  business  to  make  the  confession 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  209 

full  and  exhaustive.  He  could  only  plead 
that,  at  the  moment,  it  had  seemed  thor- 
ough and  candid — an  unreserved  revela- 
tion. Yet  those  points  did,  as  a  fact,  re- 
main obscure. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  a  little  more  about  human 
nature,"  sighed  Mr.  Taylor :  he  was  thinking 
of  one  division  of  human  nature,  and  it  is 
likely  enough  that  he  knew  next  to  nothing 
of  it. 

A  hand  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  and, 
with  a  start,  he  turned  round.  A  tall  young 
man,  in  a  new  frock-coat  and  a  faultless  hat, 
stood  by  him,  smiling  at  him. 

"  What,  Charlie,  old  fellow !  "  cried  Taylor ; 
"  where  do  you  spring  from  ?  " 

Charlie  explained  that  he  was  up  in  town 
for  a  month  or  two. 

"  It's  splendid  to  meet  you  first  day  !  I 
was  going  to  look  you  up,"  he  said. 

Sigismund  Taylor  and  Charlie  had  been 
intimate  friends  at  Oxford,  although  Charlie 
was,  as  time  counts  there,  very  considerably 
the  junior.  For  the  last  two  or  three  years 
they  had  hardly  met. 

"  But  what  are  you  up  for  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  you  see,  my  uncle  wants  me  to 
14 


210  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

get  called  to  the  Bar,  or  something,  so  I  ran 
tip  to  have  a  look  into  it." 

"  Will  that  take  a  month  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  old  fellow,  I've  got  nothing 
else  to  do  —  I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't 
stretch  it  to  three  months.  Besides,  I  want 
to  spend  some  time  with  my  ancestors." 

"  With  your  ancestors  ?  " 

"In  the  British  Museum  :  I'm  writing  a 
book  about  them.  Queer  lot  some  of  them 
were,  too.  Of  course  I'm  specially  inter- 
ested in  Agatha  Merceron ;  but  I  suppose 
you  never  heard  of  her." 

Mr.  Taylor  confessed  his  ignorance,  and 
Charlie,  taking  his  arm,  walked  him  up  and 
down  the  bank,  while  he  talked  on  his  pet 
subject.  Agatha  Merceron  was  always  in- 
teresting, and  just  now  anything  about  the 
Pool  was  interesting ;  for  there  was  one 
reason  for  his  visit  to  London  which  he  had 
not  disclosed.  Nettie  Wallace  had,  when  he 
met  her  one  day,  incautiously  dropped  a 
word  which  seemed  to  imply  that  the  other 
Agatha  was  often  in  London.  Nettie  tried 
to  recall  her  words ;  but  the  mischief  was 
done,  and  Charlie  became  more  than  ever 
convinced  that  he  would  grow  rusty  if  he 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  211 

staj^ed  always  at  Lang-bury  Court.  In  fact, 
he  could  suffer  it  no  longer,  and  to  town  lie 
went. 

For  a  long  while  Sigismund  Taylor  lis- 
tened with  no  more  than  average  interest  to 
Charlie's  story,  but  it  chanced  that  one  word 
caught  his  notice. 

"  She  comes  out  of  the  temple,"  said 
Charlie,  in  the  voice  of  hushed  reverence 
with  which  he  was  wont  to  talk  of  the  un- 
happy lady. 

"  Out  of  where  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Taylor. 

"  The  temple.  Oh,  I  forgot.  The  temple 
is — "  and  Charlie  gave  a  description  which 
need  not  be  repeated. 

Temple !  temple !  Where  had  he  heard 
of  a  temple  lately?  Mr.  Taylor  cudgelled 
his  brains.  Why — why — yes,  she  had  spoken 
of  a  temple.  She  said  they  met  in  a  temple. 
It  was  a  strange  coincidence  :  the  word  had 
struck  him  at  the  time.  But  then  every- 
body knows  that,  at  a  certain  period,  it  was 
common  enough  to  put  up  these  little  clas- 
sical erections  as  a  memorial  or  merely  as  an 
ornament  to  pleasure-grounds.     It  must  be 

a  mere   coincidence.      But Mr.   Taylor 

stopped  short. 


212  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"What's  up?"  asked  Charlie,  who  had 
finished  his  narrative,  and  was  now  study- 
ing the  faces  of  the  ladies  who  rode  past. 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Mr.  Taylor. 

And  really  it  was  not  much — taken  by  it- 
self, entirely  unworthy  of  notice ;  even  taken 
in  conjunction  with  the  temple,  of  no  real 
significance,  that  he  could  see.  Still,  it  was 
a  whimsical  thing  that,  as  had  just  struck 
him,  Charlie's  spectre  should  be  named 
Agatha.  But  it  came  to  nothing :  how 
could  the  name  of  Charlie's  spectre  have 
anything  to  do  with  that  of  his  penitent  ? 

Presently  Charlie,  too,  fell  into  silence. 
He  beat  his  stick  moodily  against  his  leg 
and  looked  glum  and  absent. 

"  Ah,  well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  poor  Agatha 
was  hardly  used  :  she  paid  part  of  the  debt 
we  owe  woman." 

Mr.  Taylor  raised  his  brows  and  smiled  at 
this  gloomily  misogynistic  sentiment.  He 
had  the  perception  to  grasp  in  a  moment 
what  it  indicated.  His  young  friend  was, 
or  had  lately  been,  or  thought  he  was  likely 
to  be,  a  lover,  and  an  unhappy  one.  But  he 
did  not  press  Charlie.  Confessions  were  no 
luxury  to  him. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  213 

Presently  they  began  to  walk  back,  and 
Charlie,  saying  he  had  to  dine  with  Victor 
Sutton,  made  an  appointment  to  see  Taylor 
again,  and  left  him,  striking  across  the 
Row.  Taylor  strolled  on,  and,  finding  Mrs. 
Marland  still  in  her  seat,  sat  down  by  her. 
She  was  surprised  and  pleased  to  hear  that 
Charlie  was  in  town. 

"I  left  him  at  home  in  deep  dumps. 
You've  never  been  to  Langbury  Court,  have 
you  ?  " 

Taylor  shook  his  head. 

"  Such  a  sweet  old  place  !  But,  of  course, 
rather  dull  for  a  young  man,  with  nobody 
but  his  mother  and  just  one  or  two  slow 
country  neighbors." 

"  Oh,  a  run  '11  do  him  good." 

"  Yes  ;  he  was  quite  moped  ; "  and  Mrs. 
Marland  glanced  at  her  companion.  She 
wanted  only  a  very  little  encouragement  to 
impart  her  suspicions  to  him.  It  must,  in 
justice  to  Mrs.  Marland,  be  remembered  that 
she  had  always  found  the  simplest  explana- 
tion of  Charlie's  devotion  to  the  Pool  hard 
to  accept,  and  the  most  elaborate  demon- 
stration of  how  a  Canadian  canoe  may  be 
upset  unconvincing. 


214  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"You're  a  great  friend  of  his,  aren't  you?" 
pursued  Mrs.  Marland.  "So  I  suppose 
there's  no  harm  in  mentioning  my  suspi- 
cions to  you.  Indeed,  I  daresay  you  could 
be  of  use  to  him — I  mean,  persuade  him  to 
be  wise.  I'm  afraid,  Mr.  Taylor,  that  he  is 
in  some  entanglement." 

"  Dear,  dear !  "  murmured  Mr.  Taylor. 

"  Oh,  I've  no  positive  proof,  but  I  fear  so 
— and  a  very  undesirable  entanglement,  too, 
with  someone  quite  beneath  him.  Yes,  I 
think  I  had  better  tell  you  about  it." 

Mr.  Taylor  sat  silent  and,  save  for  a  start 
or  two,  motionless  while  his  companion  de- 
tailed her  circumstantial  evidence.  Whether 
it  was  enough  to  prove  Mrs.  Marland's  case 
or  not — whether,  that  is,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  a  young  man  should  go  to  any  place 
fourteen  evenings  running,  and  upset  a 
friend  of  his  youth  out  of  a  canoe,  except 
there  be  a  lady  involved,  is  perhaps  doubt- 
ful; but  it  was  more  than  enough  to  show 
Mr.  Sigismund  Taylor  that  the  confession 
he  had  listened  to  was  based  upon  fact,  and 
that  Charlie  Merceron  was  the  other  party 
to  those  stolen  interviews,  into  whose  exact 
degree  of  heinousness  he  was  now  inquir- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  215 

ing.  This  knowledge  caused  Mr.  Taylor  to 
feel  that  he  was  in  an  awkward  position. 

"Now,"  asked  Mrs.  Marland,  "candidly, 
Mr.  Taylor,  can  you  suppose  anything-  else 
than  that  our  friend  Charlie  was  carrying-  on 
a  very  pronounced  flirtation  with  this  dress- 
maker ?  " 

"  Dressmaker  ?  " 

"  Her  friend  was,  and  I  believe  she  was 
too.     Something  of  the  kind,  anyhow." 

"  You — you  never  saw  the — the  other  per- 
son?" 

"  No  ;  she  kept  out  of  the  way.  That  looks4 
bad,  doesn't  it  ?  No  doubt  she  was  a  tawdry 
vulgar  creature.  But  a  man  never  notices 
that ! " 

At  this  moment  two  people  were  seen  ap- 
proaching. One  of  them  was  a  man  of  mid- 
dle height  and  perhaps  five-and-thirty  years 
of  age  ;  he  was  stout  and  thick-built ;  he 
had  a  fat  face  with  bulging  cheeks  ;  his  eyes 
were  rather  like  a  frog's  ;  he  leant  very 
much  forward  as  he  walked,  and  swayed 
gently  from  side  to  side  with  a  rolling  swag- 
ger ;  and  as  his  body  rolled,  his  eye  rolled 
too,  and  he  looked  this  way  and  that  with  a 
jovial  leer  and  a  smile  of  contentment  and 


216  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

amusement  on  his  face.  The  smile  and  the 
merry  eye  redeemed  his  appearance  from 
blank  ugliness,  but  neither  of  them  indi- 
cated a  spiritual  or  exalted  mind. 

By  his  side  walked  a  girl,  dressed,  as  Mrs. 
Marland  enviously  admitted,  as  really  very 
few  women  in  London  could  dress,  and  wear- 
ing, in  virtue  perhaps  of  the  dress,  perhaps 
of  other  more  precious  gifts,  an  air  of  as- 
sured perfection  and  dainty  disdain.  She 
was  listening  to  her  companion's  conversa- 
tion, and  did  not  notice  Sigismund  Taylor, 
with  whom  she  was  well  acquainted. 

"  Dear  me,  who  are  those,  I  wonder  ?  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Marland.  "  She's  very  dis- 
tinguee." 

"  It's  Miss  Glyn,"  answered  he. 

"  What?— Miss  Agatha  Glyn  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  wondering  whether  that 
little  coincidence  as  to  the  "  Agatha  "  would 
suggest  itself  to  anyone  else. 

"  Lord  Thrapston's  granddaughter  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Horrid  old  man,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"I  know  him  very  slightly." 

"  And  the  man— who's  he  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Calder  Wentworth." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  217 

"To  be  sure.  Why,  they're  engaged, 
aren't  they  ?     I  saw  it  in  the  paper." 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Taylor, 
in  a  voice  more  troubled  than  the  matter 
seemed  to  require.  "  I  saw  it  in  the  paper 
too." 

"  He's  no  beauty,  at  any  rate  ;  but  he's  a 
great  match,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  it  isn't  true." 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  wished  it  wasn't. 
I've  heard  about  Mr.  Wentworth  from  Vic- 
tor Sutton — you  know  who  I  mean  ?  "  and 
Mrs.  Marland  proceeded  to  give  some  par- 
ticulars of  Calder  Went  worth's  career. 

Meanwhile  that  gentleman  himself  was 
telling  Agatha  Glyn  a  very  humorous  story. 
Agatha  did  not  laugh.  Suddenly  she  inter- 
rupted him. 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  me  more  about  it  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you'd  tell  me  if  you  wanted 
me  to  know,"  he  answered. 

"  You  are  the  most  insufferable  man. 
Don't  you  care  in  the  least  what  I  do  or 
where  I  go  ?  " 

"  Got  perfect  confidence  in  you,"  said 
Calder  politely. 

"  I  don't  deserve  it." 


21 S  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Oh,  I  daresay  not ;  but  it's  so  much  more 
comfortable  for  me." 

"  I  disappeared — simply  disappeared — for 
a  fortnight ;  and  you've  never  asked  where  I 
went,  or  what  I  did,  or — or  anything-." 

"  Haven't  I  ?     Where  did  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you." 

"  There,  you  see  !  What  the  dickens  was 
the  good  of  my  asking-  ?  " 

"  If  you  knew  what  I  did  I  suppose  you'd 
never  speak  to  me  again." 

"All  right.     Keep  it  dark  then,  please." 

"  For  one  thing,  I  met —    No,  I  won't." 

"  I  never  asked  you  to,  you  know." 

They  walked  on  a  little  way  in  silence. 

"  Met  young  Sutton  at  lunch,"  observed 
Calder.  He's  been  rusticating  with  some 
relations  of  old  Van  Merceron's.  They've 
got  a  nice  place  apparently." 

"  I  particularly  dislike  Mr.  Sutton." 

"  All  right.  He  sha'n't  come  when  we're 
married.     Eh?    What?" 

"  I  didn't  speak,"  said  Miss  Glyn,  who  had 
certainly  done  something. 

"Beg  pardon,"  smiled  Calder.  "Victor 
told  me  rather  a  joke.  It  appears  there's  a 
young     Merceron,    and    the    usual    rustic 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  219 

beauty,  don't  you  know — forget  the  name — 
but  a  fat  girl,  Victor  said,  and  awfully  gone 
on  young-  Merceron.  Well,  there's  a  pond 
or  something " 

"  How  long  will  this  story  last  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Glyn  with  a  tragic  air. 

"  It's  an  uncommon  amusing  one,"  pro- 
tested Calder.  "  He  upset  her  in  the  pond, 
and " 

"  Do  you  mind  finishing  it  some  other 
time  ?  " 

"Oh,  all  right.  Thought  it  'd  interest 
you." 

"  It  doesn't." 

"  Never  knew  such  a  girl !  No  sense  of 
humor ! "  commented  Calder,  with  a  shake 
of  his  head  and  a  backward  roll  of  his  eye 
towards  his  companion. 

But  it  makes  such  a  difference  whether  a 
story  is  new  to  the  hearer. 


CHAPTEE  VI 

THERE  WAS  SOMEBODY 

Two  worlds  and  half  a  dozen  industries 
had  conspired  to  shower  gold  on  Calder 
Wentworth's  head.  There  was  land  in  the 
family,  brought  by  his  grandmother ;  there 
was  finance  on  the  paternal  side  (whence 
came  a  Portuguese  title,  carefully  eschewed 
by  Calder)  ;  there  had  been  a  London  street, 
half  a  watering-place,  a  South  African  mine, 
and  the  better  part  of  an  American  railway. 
The  street  and  the  watering-place  remained  ; 
the  mine  and  the  railway  had  been  sold  at 
the  top  of  the  market.  About  the  same  time 
the  family  name  became  Wentworth — it  had 
been  Stripes,  which  was  felt  to  be  absurd — 
and  the  family  itself  began  to  take  an  ex- 
alted place  in  society.  The  rise  was  the 
easier  because,  when  old  Mr.  Stripes-Went- 
worth  died,  young  Mr.  Calder  S.  Wentworth 
became  the  only  representative  ;  and  a  rich 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  POOL  221 

young-  bachelor  can  rise  lightly  to  heights 
inaccessible  to  the  feet  of  less  happily  situ- 
ated folk.  It  seemed  part  of  Providence's 
benevolence  that  when  Lady  Forteville 
asked  how  many  "  Stripes  women "  there 
were,  the  answer  could  be  "  None  ;  "  where- 
upon the  countess  at  once  invited  Mr. 
Calder  Wentworth  to  dinner.  Calder  went, 
and  rolled  his  frog's  eyes  with  much  amuse- 
ment when  the  lady  asked  him  to  what 
Wentworths  he  belonged,  for,  as  he  observed 
to  Miss  Glyn,  whom  he  had  the  pleasure  of 
escorting,  his  Wentworths  were  an  entirely 
new  brand,  and  Lady  Forteville  knew  it  as 
well  as  if  she  had  read  the  letters  patent  and 
invented  the  coat-of-arms. 

"Mr.  Wentworth — Mr.  Merceron,"  said 
Victor  Sutton,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 

"  I  believe  I  know  an  uncle  of  yours — an 
uncommon  clever  fellow,"  said  Calder,  un- 
folding his  napkin  and  glancing  round  the 
dining-room  of  the  Themis  Club. 

"  Oh,  Uncle  Van  ?  Yes,  we  consider  him 
our " 


"  Leading  article  ?  Quite  so.  I've  heard 
a  bit  about  you  too  —  something  about  a 
canoe,  eh  ?  " 


222  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Charlie  looked  somewhat  disturbed. 

"  Oughtn't  Sutton  to  have  told  me  ?  Well, 
it's  too  late  now,  because  I've  told  half  a 
dozen  fellows." 

"  But  there's  nothing  to  tell." 

"Well,  I  told  it  to  old  Thrapston— you 
don't  know  him,  do  you  ?  Cunningest  old 
boy  in  London.  Upon  my  honor,  you  know, 
I  shouldn't  like  to  be  like  old  Thrapston, 
not  when  I  was  getting  old,  you  know.  He's 
too " 

"  Well,  what  did  he  say  ?  "  asked  Victor. 

"  He  said  what  you  never  had  the  sense  to 
see,  my  boy ;  but  I  expect  Mr.  Merceron 
won't  be  obliged  to  me  for  repeating  it." 

"I  should  like  to  hear  it,"  said  Charlie, 
with  necessary  politeness. 

"  Well,  it's  not  me,  its  old  Thrapston  ;  and 
if  you  say  it's  wrong,  I'll  believe  you.  Old 
Thrapston — hang  it,  Victor,  that  old  man 
ought  to  be  hanged !  Why,  only  the  other 
day  I  saw  him " 

"  Do  stick  to  the  point,"  groaned  Victor. 

"All  right.  Well,  he  said,  Til  lay  a 
guinea  there  was  a ' — and  he  winked  his  sin- 
ful old  eye,  you  know,  for  all  the  world  like 
a  what-d'ye-call-it   in    a    cathedral — one   of 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  223 

those  hideous — I  say,  what  is  the  word,  Vic- 
tor ?  I  saw  'em  when  Agatha  took  me — beg 
pardon,  Merceron  ?  " 

Was  the  world  full  of  Agathas  ?  If  so,  it 
would  be  well  not  to  start  whenever  one  was 
mentioned.     Charlie  recovered  himself. 

"  I  think  you  must  mean  a  gargoyle,"  he 
said,  wondering  who  this  Agatha  might  be. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Fancy  forgetting  that ! 
Gargoyle,  of  course.  Well,  old  Thrapston 
said,  '  I'll  lay  a  guinea  there  was  a  woman 
in  that  dashed  summer-house,  Calder,  my 
boy."' 

Victor  Sutton's  eyes  lighted  with  a  gleam. 

"  Well,  I'm  hanged  if  I  ever  thought  of 
that !    Charlie,  you  held  us  all ! " 

"Bosh!"  said  Charlie  Merceron.  "There 
was  no  one  there." 

"  All  right.  But  there  ought  to  have 
been,  you  know — to  give  interest  to  the  posi- 
tion." 

"  Honor  bright,  Charlie  ?  "  asked  Victor 
Sutton. 

"  Shut  up,  Sutton,"  interposed  Calder. 
"  He's  not  in  the  Divorce  Court.  Let's 
change  the  subject." 

Charlie  was  in  a  difficulty,  but  the  better 


224  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

course  seemed  to  be  to  allow  the  subject  to 
be  changed,  in  spite  of  the  wink  that  accom- 
panied Calder's  suggestion. 

"All  right,"  said  Victor.  "How  is  Miss 
Glyn,  Wentworth  ?  " 

"Oh,  she's  all  right.  She's  been  in  the 
country  for  a  bit,  but  she's  back  now." 

"  And  when  is  the  happy  event  to  be  ?  " 

Calder  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork  and 
remarked  deliberately  : 

"  I  haven't,  my  dear  boy,  the  least  idea." 

"  I  should  hurry  her  up,"  laughed  Sutton. 

"I'd  just  like — now  I  should  just  like  to 
put  you  in  my  shoes  for  half  an  hour,  and 
see  you  hurry  up  Agatha." 

"  She  couldn't  eat  me." 

"  Eat  you  ?  No,  but  she'd  flatten  you  out 
so  that  you'd  go  under  that  door  and  leave 
room  for  the  jolly  draught  there  is  all  the 
same." 

Sutton  laughed  complacently. 

"  "Well,  you're  a  patient  man,"  he  observed. 
"  For  my  part,  I  like  a  thing  to  be  off  or 
on." 

It  came  to  Charlie  Merceron  almost  as  a 
surprise  to  find  that  Victor's  impudence — 
he  could  call  it  by  no  other  name— was  not 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  POOL  225 

reserved  for  his  juniors  or  for  young1  men 
from  the  country ;  but  Calder  took  it  quite 
good-hunioredly,  contenting-  himself  with 
observing, 

"  Well,  it  was  very  soon  off  in  your  case, 
wasn't  it,  old  fellow  ?  " 

Sutton  flushed. 

"  I've  told  you  before  that  that's  not  true," 
he  said  angrily. 

Calder  laughed. 

"  All  right,  all  right.  We  used  to  think, 
once  upon  a  time,  Merceron,  you  know,  that 
old  Victor  here  was  a  bit  smitten  himself ; 
but  he  hasn't  drugged  my  champagne  yet, 
so  of  course,  as  he  says,  it  was  all  a  mistake." 

After  dinner  the  three  separated.  Victor 
had  to  go  to  a  party.  Calder  Wentworth 
proposed  to  Charlie  that  they  should  take 
a  stroll  together  with  a  view  to  seeing 
whether,  when  they  came  opposite  to  the 
door  of  a  music-hall,  they  would  "  feel  like  " 
dropping  in  to  see  part  of  the  entertainment. 
Charlie  agreed,  and,  having  lit  their  cigars, 
they  set  out.  He  found  his  new  friend 
amusing,  and  Calder,  for  his  part,  took  a  lik- 
ing for  Charlie,  largely   on  account  of  his 

good  looks  ;  like  many  plain  people,  he  was 
15 


226  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

extremely  sensitive  to  the  influence  of  beauty 
in  women  and  men  alike. 

"  I  say,  old  fellow,"  he  said,  pressing1 
Charlie's  arm  as  if  he  had  known  him  all  his 
life,  "  there  was  somebody  in  that  summer- 
house,  eh  ?  " 

Charlie  turned  with  a  smile  and  a  blush. 
He  felt  confidential. 

"  Yes,  there  was,  only  Victor " 

"  Oh,  I  know.  I  nearly  break  his  head 
whenever  he  mentions  any  girl  I  like." 

"  You  know  what  he'd  have  thought — and 
it  wasn't  anything  like  that  really." 

"  Who  was  she,  then  ?  " 

"I— I  don't  know." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  her  name,  of  course. 
But  what  was  she  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Where  did  she  come  from  ?  " 

"London,  I  believe." 

"  Oh !  I  say,  that's  a  queer  go,  Merce- 
ron." 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think  about  it. 
She's  simply  vanished,"  said  poor  Charlie, 
and  no  one  should  wonder  if  his  voice  fal- 
tered a  little.  Calder  Wentworth  laughed 
at  many  things,  but  he  did  not  laugh  now  at 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  227 

Charlie  Merceron.  Indeed  he  looked  un- 
usually grave. 

"  I  should  drop  it,"  he  remarked.  "  It 
don't  look — well — healthy." 

"  Ah,  you've  never  seen  her,"  said  Charlie. 

"  No,  and  I  tell  you  what — it  won't  be  a 
bad  thing-  if  you  don't  see  her  again." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  you're  just  in  the  state  of  mind 
to  marry  her." 

"  And  why  shouldn't  I  ?  " 

Mr.  Wentworth  made  no  answer,  and  they 
walked  on  till  they  reached  Piccadilly  Cir- 
cus.   Then  Charlie  suddenly  darted  forward. 

"  Hullo,  what's  up  ?  "  cried  Calder,  follow- 
ing him. 

Charlie  was  talking  eagerly  to  a  very 
smart  young  lady  who  had  just  got  down 
from  an  omnibus. 

"  By  Jove !  he  can't  have  found  her ! " 
thought  Calder. 

It  was  not  the  unknown,  but  her  friend 
Nettie  "Wallace,  whom  Charlie's  quick  eye 
had  discerned  ;  and  the  next  moment  Willie 
Prime  made  his  appearance.  Charlie  re- 
ceived them  both  almost  with  enthusiasm, 
and  the  news  from  Lang  Marsh  was  asked 


228  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

and  given.  Calder  drew  near,  and  Charlie 
presented  his  friends  to  one  another  with 
the  intent  that  he  might  get  a  word  with 
Nettie  while  Calder  engrossed  her  fiance's 
attention. 

"  Have — have  you  heard  from  Miss  Brown 
lately  ?  "  he  was  just  beginning,  when  Cal- 
der, who  had  been  looking  steadily  at  Nettie, 
burst  out : 

"  Hullo,  I  say,  Miss  Wallace,  we've  met  be- 
fore, haven't  we  ?   You  know  me,  don't  you  ?  " 

Nettie  laughed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  you,  sir.     You're " 

She  paused  abruptly,  and  glanced  from 
Charlie  to  Calder,  and  back  from  Calder  to 
Charlie.     Then  she  blushed  very  red  indeed. 

"Well,  who  am  I?" 

"  I — I  saw  you  at — at  Miss  Glyn's,  Mr. 
Wentworth." 

"  'Course  you  did — that's  it ;  "  and,  looking 
curiously  at  the  girl's  flushed  face,  he  added  : 
"  Don't  be  afraid  to  mention  Miss  Glyn ; 
Mr.  Merceron  knows  all  about  it." 

"  All  about  it,  does  he,  sir  ?  "  cried  Nettie. 
"  Well,  I'm  glad  of  that.  I  haven't  been 
easy  in  my  mind  ever  since." 

Calder's  conformation  of  eye  enabled  him 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  229 

to  express  much  surprise  by  facial  expres- 
sion, and  at  this  moment  he  used  his  power 
to  the  full. 

"  Awfully  kind  of  you,  Miss  Wallace," 
said  he,  "  but  I  don't  see  where  your  respon- 
sibility comes  in.    Ever  since  what  ?  " 

Nettie  shot  a  glance  of  inquiry  at  Charlie, 
but  here  too  she  met  only  bewilderment. 

"Does  he  know  that  Miss  Glyn  is " 

she  began. 

"  Engaged  to  me  ?     Certainly." 

"Oh!" 

Willie  stood  by  in  silence.  He  had  never 
heard  of  this  Miss  Glyn.  Charlie,  puzzled 
as  he  was,  was  too  intent  on  Miss  Brown  to 
spend  much  time  wondering  why  Miss 
Glyn's  affairs  should  have  been  a  trouble  to 
Nettie. 

"You'll  let  me  know  if  you  hear  about 
her,  won't  you  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

Nettie  gave  up  the  hope  of  understanding. 
She  shook  her  head. 

"I'll  ask  her,  if  I  see  her,  whether  she 
wishes  it,"  she  whispered  back  ;  and,  with  a 
hasty  good-night,  she  seized  Willie's  arm 
and  hurried  him  off.  Charlie  was  left  alone 
with  Calder. 


230  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  What  the  deuce  did  she  mean  ?  "  asked 
Calder. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Charlie. 

"  Where  did  you  meet  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  down  at  home.  The  fellow  she  was 
with  is  a  son  of  a  tenant  of  ours  ;  she's  go- 
ing to  marry  him." 

"  She's  a  nice  little  girl,  but  I'm  hanged  if 
I  know  what  she  meant." 

And,  as  the  one  was  thinking  exclusively 
of  Agatha  Glyn,  and  the  other  spared  a 
thought  for  no  one  but  Agatha  Brown,  they 
did  not  arrive  at  an  explanation. 

One  result,  however,  that  chance  encounter 
had.  The  next  morning  Miss  Agatha  Glyn 
received  a  letter  in  the  following  terms  : — 

"  Madam  :— I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  in- 
truding, but  I  think  you  would  wish  to  know 
that  Mr.  Charles  Merceron  is  in  London,  and 
that  I  met  him  this  evening  with  Mr.  Went- 
worth.  As  you  informed  me  that  you  had 
passed  Mr.  Merceron  on  the  road  two  or 
three  times  during  your  visit  to  Lang  Marsh, 
I  think  you  may  wish  to  be  informed  of  the 
above.  I  may  add  that  Mr.  Merceron  is 
aware  that  you  are  engaged  to  Mr.  Went- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  231 

worth,  but  I  could  not  make  out  how  far  he 
was  aware  of  what  happened  at  Lang"  Marsh. 
I  think  he  does  not  know  it.  Of  course  you 
will  know  whether  Mr.  Wentworth  is  aware 
of  your  visit  there.  I  should  be  much 
obliged  if  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  tell 
me  what  to  say  if  I  meet  the  gentlemen 
again.  Mr.  Merceron  is  very  pressing  in 
asking  me  for  news  of  you.  I  am  to  be  mar- 
ried in  a  fortnight  from  the  present  date, 
and  I  am,  Madam,  yours  respectfully, 

"  Nettie  Wallace." 

"  In  London,  and  with  Calder  !  "  exclaimed 
Agatha  Glyn.  "  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  oh  dear ! 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  I  wish  I'd  never 
gone  near  the  wretched  place  !  " 

Then  she  took  up  the  letter  and  re-read  it. 

"  He  and  I  mustn't  meet,  that's  all,"  she 
said. 

Then  she  slowly  tore  the  letter  into  very 
small  pieces  and  put  them  in  the  waste-paper 
basket. 

"  Calder  has  no  idea  where  I  was,"  she 
said,  and  she  sat  down  by  the  window  and 
looked  out  over  the  Park  for  nearly  ten 
minutes. 


232  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Ah,  well !  I  should  like  to  see  him  just 
ouce  again.     Dear  old  Pool ! "  said  she. 

Then  she  suddenly  began  to  laugh — an 
action  only  to  be  excused  in  one  in  her  posi- 
tion, and  burdened  with  her  sins,  by  the 
fact  of  her  having  at  the  moment  a  peculiarly 
vivid  vision  of  Millie  Bushell  going  head 
first  out  of  a  canoe. 


CHAPTEK  VII 

THE  INEVITABLE  MEETING 

The  first  Viscount  Thrapston  had  been  an 
eminent  public  character,  and  the  second 
a  respectable  private  person  ;  the  third  had 
been  neither.  And  yet  there  was  some  good 
in  the  third.  He  had  loved  his  only  son 
with  a  fondness  rare  to  find  ;  and  for  ten 
whole  years,  while  the  young-  man  was  be- 
tween seventeen  and  twenty-seven,  the  old 
lord  lived,  for  his  sake,  a  life  open  to  no  re- 
proach. Then  the  son  died,  leaving  a  lately 
married  wife  and  a  baby-girl,  and  Lord 
Thrapston,  deprived  at  once  of  hope  and  of 
restraint,  returned  to  his  old  courses,  till 
age  came  upon  him  and  drove  him  from 
practice  into  reminiscence.  Mrs.  Glyn  had 
outlived  her  husband  fifteen  years  and  then 
followed  him,  fairly  snubbed  to  death,  some 
said,  by  her  formidable  father-in-law.  The 
daughter  was  of  sterner  stuff,  and  early  dis- 


234  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

covered  for  herself  that  nothing  worse  than 
a  scoavI  or  a  snarl  was  to  be  feared.  On  her, 
indeed,  descended  a  relic  of  that  tenderness 
her  father  had  enjoyed,  and  Agatha  used  to 
the  full  the  advantages  it  gave  her.  She 
knew  her  own  importance.  It  is  not  every 
girl  who  will  be  a  peeress  in  her  own  right, 
and  she  amused  her  grandfather  by  calmly 
informing  him  that  it  was  not  on  the  whole 
a  subject  for  regret  that  she  had  not  been  a 
boy.  "  You  see,"  said  she,  "  we  get  rid  of 
the  new  viscounty,  and  it's  much  better  to 
be  Warmley  than  Thrapston." 

The  fact  that  she  was  some  day  to  be 
"  Warmley "  was  the  mainspring  of  that 
hairbrained  jaunt  to  Lang  Marsh  in  com- 
pany with  Nettie  Wallace.  Nettie  was  the 
daughter  of  Lord  Thrapston's  housekeeper, 
and  the  two  girls  had  been  intimate  in  youth, 
much  as  Charlie  Merceron  and  Willie  Prime 
had  been  at  the  Court ;  and  when  Nettie, 
scorning  servitude,  set  up  in  life  for  herself, 
Agatha  gave  her  her  custom  and  did  not  with- 
draw her  friendship.  In  return,  she  received 
an  allegiance  which  refused  none  of  her  be- 
hests, and  a  regard  which  abolished  all  for- 
mality between  them,  except  when  Nettie 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  235 

got  a  pen  in  her  hand  and  set  herself  to  com- 
pose a  polite  letter.  The  expedition  was,  of 
course,  to  see  the  Court — the  old  home  of 
the  Warmleys,  for  which  Agatha  felt  a  sen- 
timental attraction.  She  had  told  herself 
that  some  day,  if  she  were  rich  (and,  Lord 
Thrapston  not  being1  rich,  she  must  have  had 
some  other  resource  in  her  mind),  she  would 
buy  back  Langbury  Court  and  get  rid  of  the 
Mercerons  altogether.  There  were  only  a 
widow  and  a  boy,  she  had  heard,  and  they 
should  have  their  price.  So  she  went  to  the 
Court  in  the  business-like  mood  of  a  possible 
purchaser  (Calder  could  afford  anything), 
as  well  as  in  the  romantic  mood  of  a  girl 
escaped  from  every-day  surroundings  and 
plunging*  into  a  past  full  of  interest  to  her. 
Had  not  she  also  read  of  Agatha  Merceron  ? 
And  in  this  mixed  mood  she  remained  till 
one  evening  at  the  Pool  she  had  met  "  the 
boy,"  when  the  mood  became  more  mixed 
still.  She  dared  not  now  look  back  on  the 
struggles  she  had  gone  through  before  her 
meeting  with  the  boy  became  first  a  daily 
event,  and  then  the  daily  event.  She  had 
indulged  herself  for  once.  It  was  not  to 
last ;   but  for  once   it   was   overpoweringly 


236  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

sweet  to  be  gazed  at  by  eyes  that  did  not  re- 
mind her  of  a  frog's,  and  to  see  swiftly  dart- 
ing towards  her  a  lithe  straight  figure 
crowned  with  a  head  that  (so  she  said)  re- 
minded her  of  Lord  Byron's.  But  alas ! 
alas !  why  had  nobody  told  her  that  the  boy 
was  like  that  before  she  went?  Why  did 
her  grandfather  take  no  care  of  her  ?  Why 
did  Calder  never  show  any  interest  in  what 
she  did?  Why,  in  fine,  was  everybody  so 
cruel  as  to  let  her  do  exactly  what  she  liked, 
and  thereby  get  into  a  scrape  like  this  ? 

One  thing  was  certain.  If  that  boy  were 
in  London,  she  must  avoid  him.  They  must 
never  meet.  It  was  nonsense  for  Mr.  Sigis- 
mund  Taylor  to  talk  of  making  a  clean 
breast  of  it — of  a  dignified  apology  to  Char- 
lie, coupled  with  a  no  less  dignified  intima- 
tion that  their  acquaintance  must  be  re- 
garded as  closed.  Mr.  Taylor  knew  nothing 
of  the  world.  He  even  wanted  her  to  tell 
Calder !  No.  She  was  truly  and  properly 
penitent,  and  she  hoped  that  she  received 
all  he  said  in  that  line  in  a  right  spirit ;  but 
when  it  came  to  a  question  of  expediency, 
she  would  rather  have  Mrs.  Blunt's  advice 
than  that  of  a  thousand  Mr.  Taylors.     So 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  237 

she  wrote  to  Mrs.  Blunt  and  asked  herself 
to  lunch,  and  Mrs.  Blunt,  being-  an  accom- 
plished painstaking*  hostess,  and  having  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  her  young  friend  de- 
sired a  confidential  interview,  at  once  cast 
about  for  some  one  whom  Agatha  would 
like  to  meet.  She  did  not  ask  Calder  Went- 
worth — she  was  not  so  commonplace  as  that 
— but  she  invited  Victor  Sutton,  and,  de- 
lighting in  a  happy  flash  of  inspiration,  she 
added  Mr.  Vansittart  Merceron.  The  fami- 
lies were  connected  in  some  way,  she  knew, 
and  Agatha  certainly  ought  to  know  Mr. 
Merceron. 

Accordingly,  when  Agatha  arrived,  she 
found  Victor,  and  she  had  not  been  there 
five  minutes  before  the  butler,  throwing 
open  the  door,  announced  "  Mr.  Merce- 
ron." 

Uncle  Van  had  reached  that  state  of  body 
when  he  took  his  time  over  stairs,  and  be- 
tween the  announcement  and  his  entrance 
there  was  time  for  Agatha  to  exclaim,  quite 
audibly, 

"Oh!" 

"What's  the  matter,  dear?"  asked  Mrs. 
Blunt ;  but  Uncle  Van's  entrance  forbade  a 


238  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

reply,  and  left  Agatha  blushing  but  re- 
lieved. 

Was  she  never  to  hear  the  end  of  that 
awful  story  ?  It  might  be  natural  that,  her 
hereditary  connection  with  the  Mercerons 
being  disclosed,  Mr.  Vansittart  should  dis- 
course of  Langbury  Court,  of  the  Pool,  and 
of  Agatha  Merceron ;  but  was  it  necessary 
that  Victor  Sutton  should  chime  in  with  the 
wrhole  history  of  the  canoe  and  Miss  Bush- 
ell,  or  joke  with  Mr.  Merceron  about  his 
nephew's  "  assignations  ?  "  The  whole  topic 
seemed  in  bad  taste,  and  she  wondered  that 
Mrs.  Blunt  did  not  discourage  it.  But  what 
horrible  creatures  men  were !  Did  they 
really  think  it  impossible  for  a  girl  to  like 
to  talk  to  a  man  for  an  hour  or  so  in  the 
evening  without ? 

"You  must  let  me  bring  my  nephew  to 
meet  Miss  Glyn,"  said  Uncle  Van  graciously 
to  his  hostess.  "  She  is  so  interested  in  the 
family  history  that  she  and  Charlie  would 
get  on  like  wildfire.     He's  mad  about  it." 

"In  fact,"  sniggered  Victor  (Miss  Glyn 
always  detested  that  man),  "  so  interested 
that,  as  you  hear,  he  went  to  meet  Agatha 
Merceron  every  evening  for  a  fortnight ! " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  239 

"You'll  be  delighted  to  meet  him,  won't 
you,  Agatha?  We  must  arrange  a  day," 
said  Mrs.  Blunt. 

"  Calder  knows  him,"  added  Victor. 

"He's  an  idle  young  dog,"  said  Uncle 
Van,  "  but  a  nice  fellow.  A  little  flighty 
and  fanciful,  as  boys  will  be,  but  no  harm  in 
him.  You  mustn't  attach  too  much  impor- 
tance to  our  chaff  about  his  meetings  at 
the  Pool,  Miss  Glyn  ;  we  don't  mean  any 
harm." 

Agatha  tried  to  smile,  but  the  attempt 
was  not  a  brilliant  success.  She  stammered 
that  she  would  be  delighted  to  meet  Mr. 
Charles  Merceron,  swearing  in  her  heart 
that  she  would  sooner  start  for  Tierra  del 
Fuego.  But  her  confession  to  Mrs.  Blunt 
would  save  her,  if  only  these  odious  men 
would  go.  They  had  had  their  coffee,  and 
their  liqueurs,  and  their  cigarettes.  What 
more,  in  Heaven's  name,  could  even  a  man 
want  to  propitiate  the  god  of  his  idola- 
try? 

Apparently  the  guests  themselves  became 
aware  that  they  were  trespassing,  for  Uncle 
Van,  turning  to  his  hostess  with  his  blandest 
smile,  remarked, 


240  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  hope  we're  not  staying  too  long".  The 
fact  is,  my  dear  Mrs.  Blunt,  you're  always  so 
kind  that  we  took  the  liberty  of  telling  Cal- 
der  Wentworth  to  call  for  us  here.  He 
ought  to  have  come  by  now." 

Mrs.  Blunt  declared  that  she  would  be 
offended  if  they  thought  of  going  before 
Calder  came.  Agatha  rose  in  despair :  the 
confession  must  be  put  off.  She  held  out 
her  hand  to  her  hostess.  At  this  moment 
the  door-bell  rang. 

"  That's  him,"  said  Victor. 

"  Sit  down  again  for  a  minute,  dear,"  urged 
Mrs.  Blunt. 

There  was  renewed  hope  for  the  confes- 
sion. Agatha  sat  down.  But  hardly  had 
she  done  so  before  the  strangest  presenti- 
ment came  over  her.  She  heard  the  door 
below  open  and  shut,  and  it  was  borne  in 
upon  her  mind  that  two  men  had  entered. 
How  she  guessed  it,  she  could  not  tell,  but, 
as  she  sat  there,  she  had  no  doubt  at  all  that 
Charlie  Merceron  had  come  with  Calder 
Wentworth.  Escape  was  impossible,  but 
she  walked  across  to  the  window  and  stood 
there,  with  her  back  to  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth  ! "  she  heard,  and  then, 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  241 

cutting-  the  servant   short,   came    Calder's 
voice. 

"  I  took  the  liberty "  he  began  :   and 

she  did  not  know  how  he  went  on,  for  her 
head  was  swimming. 

"  Agatha !  Agatha,  dear !  "  called  Mrs. 
Blunt. 

Perforce  she  turned,  passing  her  hand 
quickly  across  her  brow.  Yes  !  It  was  so. 
There  he  stood  by  Calder's  side,  and  Calder 
was  saying, 

"My  dear  Agatha,  this  is  Charlie  Mer~ 
ceron." 

She  would  not  look  at  Charlie.  She 
moved  slowly  forward,  her  eyes  fixed  on 
Calder,  and  bowed  with  a  little  set  smile. 
Luckily  people  pay  slight  attention  to  one 
another's  expressions  on  social  occasions,  or 
they  must  all  have  noticed  her  agitation. 
As  it  was,  only  Calder  Wentworth  looked 
curiously  at  her  before  he  turned  aside  to 
shake  hands  with  Uncle  Van. 

Then  she  felt  Charlie  Merceron  coming 
nearer,  and,  a  second  later,  she  heard  his 
voice. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  it's  you  ?  "  he  asked, 
in  a  low  tone. 
16 


242  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Then  she  looked  at  him.  His  face  was 
pale  and  his  eyes  eagerly  straining-  to  read 
what  might  be  in  hers. 

"  Hush  ! "  she  whispered.  "  Yes.  Hush ! 
hush ! "     ' 

"But  —  but  he  told  me  your  name  was 
Glyn?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  he  says  you're  engaged  to  him." 

Agatha  clasped  her  hands,  and  Calder's 
voice  broke  in  between  them  : 

"  Come  along,  Merceron,  we're  waiting  for 
you." 

"  They've  got  into  antiquities  already," 
smiled  Mrs.  Blunt.  "  You  must  come  again, 
Mr.  Merceron,  and  meet  Miss  Glyn.  Mustn't 
he,  Agatha  ?  " 

Agatha  threw  one  glance  at  him. 

"  If  he  will,"  she  said. 

Charlie  pulled  himself  together,  muttered 
something  appropriate,  and  shuffled  out 
■under  his  uncle's  wing.  Mr.  Vansittart  was 
surprised  to  find  him  a  trifle  confused  and 
awkward  in  society. 

Outside  the  house,  Charlie  ranged  up  be- 
side Calder  Wentworth,  leaving  Uncle  Van 
and  Sutton  together. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  243 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  her  ?  "  asked 
Calder. 

Charlie  gave  no  opinion.  He  asked  just 
one  question : 

"  How  long  have  you  been  engaged  to 
her?" 

"How  long?  Oh,  let's  see.  About — yes, 
just  about  a  year.  I  never  knew  that  there 
was  a  sort  of  connection  between  you  and 
her — sort  of  relationship,  you  know.  I  ain't 
strong  on  the  Peerage." 

"  A  sort  of  connection ! "  There  was  that 
in  more  senses  than  the  one  Calder  had  been 
told  of  by  Uncle  Yan.  There  was  a  connec- 
tion that  poor  Charlie  thought  Heaven  itself 
had  tied  on  those  summer  evenings  by  the 
Pool,  which  to  strengthen  and  confirm  for- 
ever he  had  sallied  from  his  home,  like  a 
knight  in  search  of  his  mistress  the  world 
over  in  olden  days.  And  he  found  her — 
such  as  this  girl  must  be !  Stay  !  He  did 
not  know  all  yet.  Perhaps  she  had  been 
forced  into  a  bond  she  hated.  He  knew 
that  happened.  Did  not  stories  tell  of  it, 
and  moralists  declaim  against  it  ?  This 
man — this  creature,  Calder  Wentworth — was 
buying  her  with  his  money,  forcing  himself 


244  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

on  her,  brutally  capturing  her.  Of  course  ! 
How  could  he  have  doubted  her  ?  Charlie 
dropped  Calder's  arm  as  though  it  had  been 
made  of  red-hot  iron. 

"Hullo!"  exclaimed  that  worthy  fellow, 
unconscious  of  offence. 

Charlie  stopped  short. 

"I  can't  come,"  he  said.  "I — I've  remem- 
bered an  engagement ; "  and  without  more 
he  turned  away  and  shot  out  of  sight  round 
the  nearest  corner. 

"Well,  I'm  hanged!"  said  Calder  Went- 
worth,  and,  with  a  puzzled  frown,  he  joined 
his  other  friends. 


CHAPTER  VHI 

THE  MORAL  OF  IT 

Left  alone  with  Mrs.  Blunt,  Agatha  sank 
into  the  nearest  chair. 

"A  very  handsome  young-  man,  isn't  he? " 
asked  the  good  lady,  pushing-  a  chair  back 
into  its  place.  "  He'll  be  an  acquisition,  I 
think." 

Agatha  made  no  answer,  and  Mrs.  Blunt, 
glancing  at  her,  found  her  devouring  the 
carpet  with  a  stony  stare. 

"  What  on  earth's  the  matter,  child  ?  " 

"  I'm  the  wretchedest  wickedest  girl  alive," 
declared  Agatha. 

"  Good  gracious ! " 

"Mrs.  Blunt,  who  do  you  think  was  in 
the  summer-house  when  Mr.  Merceron  went 
there?" 

"My  dear,  are  you  ill?  You  jump  about 
so  from  subject  to  subject." 

"  It's  all  one  subject,  Mrs.  Blunt.  There 
was  a  girl  there." 


246  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Well,  my  dear,  and  if  there  was  ?  Boys 
will  be  boys ;  and  I'm  sure  there  was  no 
harm." 

"No  harm!     Oh!" 

"  Agatha,  are  you  crazy  ?  "  demanded 
Mrs.  Blunt,  with  an  access  of  sternness. 

"  Could  I  fancy,"  pursued  Agatha,  in  de- 
spairing playfulness  mimicking  Uncle  Van's 
manner,  "how  Miss  Bushell  looked,  and 
how  Victor  looked,  and  how  everybody 
looked  ?  Could  I  fancy  it  ?  Why,  /  was 
there  !  " 

"There!    Where?" 

"  Why,  in  that  wretched  little  temple.  I 
was  the  girl,  Mrs.  Blunt.  I — I — I  was  the 
milkmaid,  as  Mr.  Sutton  says.  I  was  the 
country  wench !  Oh  dear !  oh  dear !  oh 
dear!" 

Mrs.  Blunt,  knowing  her  sex,  held  out  a 
bottle  of  salts. 

"  I'm  not  mad,"  said  Agatha. 

"  You're  nearly  hysterical." 

Agatha  took  a  long  sniff. 

"I  think  I  can  tell  you  now,"  she  said 
more  calmly.  "  But  was  ever  a  girl  in  such 
an  awful  position  before  ?  " 

It  is  needless  to  repeat  what  Mrs.  Blunt 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  247 

said.  Her  censures  will  have  been  long- 
ago  anticipated  by  every  right  thinking  per- 
son, and  if  she  softened  them  down  a  little 
more  than  strict  justice  allowed,  it  must 
have  been  because  Agatha  was  an  old  favor- 
ite of  hers,  and  Lord  Thrapston  an  old  an- 
tipathy. Upon  her  word,  she  always  won- 
dered that  the  poor  child,  brought  up  by 
that  horrid  old  man,  was  not  twice  as  bad  as 
she  was. 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  about  them  ? " 
cried  Agatha. 

"  Them "  evidently  meant  Calder  and 
Charlie. 

"  Do  !  Why,  there's  nothing  to  do.  You 
must  just  apologize  to  Mr.  Merceron,  and 
tell  him  that  an  end  had  better  be  put " 

"  Oh,  I  know— Mr.  Taylor  said  that ;  but, 
Mrs.  Blunt,  I  don't  want  an  end  to  be  put 
to  our  acquaintance.  I  like  him  very  very 
much.    Oh,  and  he  thinks  me  horrid !    Oh ! " 

"  Take  another  sniff,"  advised  Mrs.  Blunt. 
"  Of  course,  if  Mr.  Merceron  is  willing  to  let 
bygones  be  bygones,  and  just  be  an  ac- 
quaintance  " 

"  Oh,  but  I  know  he  won't.  If  you  knew 
Charlie " 


248  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Knew  who,  Agatha  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Merceron,"  said  Agatha,  in  a  very 
humble  voice.  "If  you  knew  him  at  all, 
you'd  know  he  wouldn't  do  that." 

"  Then  you  must  send  him  about  his  busi- 
ness. Oh,  yes,  I  know.  You've  treated  him 
atrociously,  but  Calder  Wentworth  must  be 
considered  first ;  that  is,  if  you  care  two 
straws  for  the  poor  fellow,  which  I  begin  to 
doubt." 

"  Oh,  I  do,  Mrs.  Blunt ! " 

"  Agatha,  you  shameless  girl,  which  of 
these  men ?  " 

"Don't  talk  as  if  there  were  a  dozen  of 
them,  dear  Mrs.  Blunt.  There  are  only 
two." 

"  One  too  many." 

"Yes,  I  know.  You  —  you  see  I'm  —  I'm 
accustomed  to  Calder." 

"  Oh,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Don't  be  unkind,  Mrs.  Blunt.  And 
then  Charlie  was  something  so  new — such  a 
charming  change — that " 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  might  be  your 
grandfather.  Talk  about  heredity,  and  Ib- 
sen, and  all  that !  " 

"  Can't  you  help  me,  dear  Mrs.  Blunt  ?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  249 

"  I  can't  give  you  two  husbands,  if  that's 
what  you  want.  There,  child,  don't  cry. 
Never  mind  me.     Have  another  sniff." 

"I  shall  go  home,"  said  Agatha.  "Per- 
haps grandpapa  may  be  able  to  advise 
me." 

"  Your  grandfather  !  Gracious  goodness, 
girl,  you're  never  going  to  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  shall.  Grandpapa's  had  a  lot  of 
experience  :  he  says  so." 

"  I  should  think  he  had !  "  whispered  Mrs. 
Blunt  with  uplifted  hands. 

"  Good-by,  Mrs.  Blunt.  You  don't  know 
how  unhappy  I  am.  Thanks,  yes,  a  han- 
som, please.  Mrs.  Blunt,  are  you  going  to 
ask  Mr.  Merceron  here  again  ?  " 

Mrs.  Blunt's  toleration  was  exhausted. 

"  Be  off  with  you !  "  she  said  sternly,  point- 
ing a  forefinger  at  the  door. 

By  great  good  fortune  Agatha  found  Lord 
Thrapston  at  home.  Drawing  a  footstool 
beside  his  chair,  she  sat  down.  Her  agita- 
tion was  past,  and  she  wore  a  gravely  busi- 
ness-like air. 

"Grandpapa,"  she  began,  "I  have  got 
something  to  tell  you." 

"  Go  ahead,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  gentle- 


250  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

man,  stroking  her  golden  hair.  Her  father 
had  curls  like  that  when  he  was  a  boy. 

"  Something  dreadful  I've  done,  you  know. 
But  you  won't  be  very  angry,  will  you  ?  " 

"  We'll  see." 

"You  oughtn't  to  be,  because  you're  not 
very  good  yourself,  are  you?  "  and  she  first 
glanced  up  into  his  burnt-out  old  eyes  and 
then  pressed  her  lips  on  his  knotted  lean 
old  hand. 

"  Aggy,"  said  he,  "  I  expect  you  play 
the  deuce  with  the  young  fellows,  don't 
you  ?  " 

Agatha  laughed  softly,  but  a  frown  suc- 
ceeded. 

"  That's  just  it,"  she  said.  "  Now,  you're 
to  listen  and  not  interrupt,  or  I  shall  never 
be  able  to  manage  it.  And  you're  not  to 
look  at  me,  grandpapa." 

The  narrative — that  thrice-told  tale — be- 
gan. As  the  comments  of  Mr.  Taylor  and 
Mrs.  Blunt  were  omitted,  those  of  Lord 
Thrapston  may  well  receive  like  treatment, 
more  especially  as  they  tended  not  to  edifi- 
cation ;  but  before  his  granddaughter  had 
finished  her  story  the  old  man  had  sworn 
softly  four  times  and  chuckled  audibly  twice. 


TEE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  251 

"  I  knew  there  was  a  girl  in  that  temple, 
soon  as  Calder  told  me,"  said  he. 

"But  you  didn't  know  who  it  was.  Oh, 
and  Calder  doesn't  ?  " 

"  Not  he.  Well,  you've  made  a  pretty 
little  fool  of  yourself,  missie.  What  are  you 
going-  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  That's  what  you've  got  to  tell  me." 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I  dare  say.  No,  no  ;  you  got 
into  the  scrape  and  you  can  get  out  of  it. 
And "  He  suddenly  recollected  his  du- 
ties. "  Look  here,  Agatha,  I  must — hang  it, 
Agatha,  I  shouldn't  be  doing  my  duty  as — 
as  a  grandfather  if  I  didn't  say  that  it's  a 
monstrous  disgraceful  thing  of  you  to  have 

done.    Yes,  d d  disgraceful ; "  and  he  took 

a  pinch  of  snuff  with  an  air  of  severe  virtue. 

"  Yes,  dear ;  but  you  shouldn't  swear, 
should  you  ?  " 

Lord  Thrapston  felt  that  he  had  spoilt  the 
moral  effect  of  his  reproof,  and,  without 
dwelling  further  on  that  aspect  of  the  sub- 
ject, he  addressed  his  mind  to  the  more 
practical  question.  The  outcome,  different 
as  the  source  was,  was  the  same  old  verdict. 

"  We  must  tell  Calder,  my  dear.  It  isn't 
right  to  keep  him  in  the  dark." 


252  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  can't  tell  him.     Why  must  he  be  told  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Lord  Thrapston,  "  it's  just 
possible,  Aggy,  that  he  may  have  something 
to  say  to  it,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  what  he  says,"  declared 
Agatha. 

"  Eh  ?  Why,  I  thought  you  were  so  fond 
of  him." 

"  So  I  am." 

"And  as  you're  going  to  marry  him " 

"  I  never  said  I  was  going  to  marry  him. 
I  only  said  he  might  be  engaged  to  me,  if  he 
liked." 

"  Oho !    So  this  young  Merceron " 

"Not  at  all,  grandpapa.  Oh,  I  do  wish 
somebody  would  help  me ! " 

Lord  Thrapston  rose  from  his  seat. 

"  You  must  do  what  you  like,"  he  said. 
"  I'm  going  to  tell  Calder." 

"Oh,  why?" 

"Because,"  he  answered,  "I'm  a  man  of 
honor." 

Before  the  impressive  invocation  of  her 
grandfather's  one  religion,  Agatha's  opposi- 
tion collapsed. 

"I  suppose  he  must  be  told,"  she  ad- 
mitted mournfully.     "  I  expect  he'll  never 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  253 

speak  to  me  again,  and  I'm  sure  Mr.  Merce- 
ron  won't ; "  and  she  sat  on  the  footstool, 
the  picture  of  dejection. 

Lord  Thrapston  was  moved  to  enunciate  a 
solemn  truth. 

"  Aggy,"  said  he,  shaking  his  finger  at 
her,  "  in  this  world  }rou  can't  have  your  fun 
for  nothing."  But  then  he  spoilt  it  by  add- 
ing regretfully,  "  More's  the  pity  !  "  and  off 
he  hobbled  to  the  club,  intent  on  finding 
Calder  Wentworth. 

For  some  time  after  he  went,  Agatha  sat 
on  her  stool  in  deep  thought.  Then  she 
rose,  sat  down  at  the  writing-table,  took  a 
pen,  and  began  to  bite  the  end  of  it.  At 
last  she  started  to  write  : 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  ought  to  write 
or  not,  but  I  must  tell  you  how  it  happened. 
Oh,  don't  think  too  badly  of  me !  I  came 
down  just  because  I  had  heard  so  much 
about  the  Court  and  I  wanted  to  see  it,  and 
I  came  as  I  did  with  Nettie  Wallace  just  for 
fun.  I  never  meant  to  say  I  was  a  dress- 
maker, you  know ;  but  people  would  ask 
questions  and  I  had  to  say  something.  I 
never,  never  thought  of  you.     I  thought  you 


254  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

were  about  fifteen.  And  you  know — oh,  you 
must  know — that  I  met  you  quite  by  acci- 
dent, and  was  just  as  surprised  as  you  were. 
And  the  rest  was  all  your  fault.  I  didn't 
want  to  come  again ;  you  know  I  refused 
ever  so  many  times  ;  and  you  promised  you 
wouldn't  come  if  I  came,  and  then  you  did 
come.  It  was  really  all  your  fault.  And  I'm 
very,  very  sorry,  and  you  must  please  try  to 
forgive  me,  dear  Mr.  Merceron,  and  not  think 
me  a  very  wicked  girl.  I  had  no  idea  of 
coming  every  evening,  but  you  persuaded 
me.  You  know  you  persuaded  me.  And 
how  could  I  tell  you  I  was  engaged  ?  You 
know  you  never  asked  me.  I  would  have 
told  you  if  you  had.  I  am  telling  Mr.  Went- 
worth  all  about  it,  and  I  don't  think  you 
ought  to  have  persuaded  me  to  meet  you  as 
you  did.  It  wasn't  really  kind  or  nice  of  you, 
was  it  ?  Because,  of  course,  I'm  not  very 
old,  and  I  don't  know  much  about  the  world, 
and  I  never  thought  of  all  the  horrid  things 
people  would  say.  Do,  please,  keep  this 
quite  a  secret.  I  felt  I  must  write  you  just  a 
line.  I  wonder  what  you're  thinking  about 
me,  or  whether  you're  thinking  about  me  at 
all.     You  must  never  think  of  me  again.    I 


r 
THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  255 

am  very,  very  unhappy,  and  I  do  most  ear- 
nestly hope,  dear  Mr.  Merceron,  that  I  have 
not  made  you  unhappy.  We  were  both  very 
much  to  blame,  weren't  we  ?  But  we  slipped 
into  it  without  knowing.  Good-by.  I  don't 
think  I  shall  ever  forget  the  dear  old  Pool, 
and  the  temple,  and  —  the  rest.  But  you 
must  please  forget  me  and  forgive  me.  I  am 
very  miserable  about  it  and  about  every- 
thing. I  think  we  had  better  not  know  each 
other  any  more,  so  please  don't  answer  this. 
Just  put  it  in  the  fire  and  think  no  more 
about  it  or  me.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  all  this 
when  I  saw  you  to  -  day,  but  I  couldn't. 
Good-by.     Why  did  we  ever  meet  ? 

"Agatha  Glyn." 

She  read  this  rather  confused  composition 
over  twice,  growing  more  sorry  for  herself 
each  time.  Then  she  put  it  in  an  envelope, 
addressed  it  to  Charlie,  looked  out  Uncle 
Van  in  the  Directory,  and  sent  it  under  cover 
to  his  residence.  Then  she  went  and  lay 
down  on  the  hearth-rug,  and  began  to  cry, 
and  through  her  tears  she  said  aloud  to  her- 
self, 

"  I  wonder  whether  he'll  write  or  come." 


256  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Because  it  seemed  to  her  entirely  impos- 
sible that,  in  spite  of  her  prayer,  he  should 
put  the  letter  in  the  fire  and  let  her  go. 
Surely  he  too  remembered  the  dear  old  Pool, 
and  the  temple,  and — the  rest ! 


CHAPTEK  IX 

TWO  MEN  OF  SPIRIT 

"  The  fact  is,"  observed  Lord  Thrapston 
complacently,  "  the  girl  very  much  resembles 
me  in  disposition." 

Calder's  eyes  grew  larger  and  rounder. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ? "  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"  Well,  this  little  lark  of  hers — hang  me, 
it's  just  what  I  should  have  enjoyed  doing 
fifty  years  ago." 

"Ah  —  er  —  Lord  Thrapston,  have  you 
noticed  the  resemblance  you  speak  of  in  any 
other  way  ?  " 

"  That  girl,  except  that  she  is  a  girl,  is 
myself  over  again — myself  over  again." 

"  The  deuce ! " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Calder ;  I  grow  hard 
of  hearing." 

"Nothing,    Lord  Thrapston.    Look  here, 

Lord  Thrapston " 

17 


25S  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Well,  well,  my  dear  boy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing- ;  that  is " 

"  But  she'll  be  all  right  in  your  hands,  my 
boy.  You  must  keep  an  eye  on  her,  don't 
you  know  :  she'll  need  a  bit  o'  driving ;  but 
I  really  don't  see  why  you  should  come  to 
grief.  I  don't,  'pon  my  soul.  No.  With 
tact  on  your  part,  you  might  very  well  pull 
through." 

"  How  d'ye  mean  tact,  Lord  Thrapston  ?  " 

"  Oh,  amuse  her.  Let  her  travel ;  give 
her  lots  of  society ;  don't  bother  her  with 
domestic  affairs.  Don't  let  her  feel  she's 
under  any  obligation.  That's  what  she  kicks 
against.     So  do  I ;  always  did." 

Calder  pulled  his  mustache.  Lord 
Thrapston  had  briefly  sketched  the  exact 
opposite  of  his  ideal  of  married  life. 

"  The  fact  is,"  continued  the  old  man,  "the 
boy's  an  uncommon  handsome  boy.  She 
can't  resist  that.  No  more  can  I ;  never 
could." 

There  chanced  to  be  a  mirror  opposite 
Calder,  and  he  impartially  considered  him- 
self. There  was,  he  concluded,  every  pros- 
pect of  Miss  Glyn  resisting  any  engrossing 
passion  for  him. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  259 

"  It's  very  good  of  yon  to  have  told  me  all 
about  it,"  he  remarked,  rising.  "  I'll  think 
it  over." 

"  Yes,  do.  Of  course,  I  admit  she's  given 
you  a  perfectly  good  reason  for  breaking  off 
your  engagement  if  you  like.  Mind  that. 
We  don't  feel  aggrieved,  Calder.  Act  as 
you  think  best.  We  admit  we're  in  the 
wrong,  but  we  must  stand  by  what  we've 
done." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  give  her  any 
pain " 

"  Pain !  Oh,  dear  me,  no,  my  dear  boy. 
She  won't  fret.  Make  your  mind  easy  about 
that." 

Calder  felt  a  sudden  impulse  to  disclose 
to  Lord  Thrapston  his  secret  opinion  of  him, 
and  he  recollected,  with  a  pang,  that  in  the 
course  of  so  doing  he  would  have  to  touch 
on  more  than  one  characteristic  shared  by 
the  old  man  and  Agatha.  Where  were  his 
visions  of  a  quiet  home  in  the  country,  of 
freedom  from  the  irksome  duties  of  society, 
of  an  obedient  and  devoted  wife,  surrounded 
by  children  and  flanked  by  jampots  ?  He 
had  once  painted  this  picture  for  Agatha, 
shortly  after  she  had  agreed  to  that  arrange- 


260  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

ment  which  she  declined  to  call  a  promise 
of  marriage  ;  and  it  occurred  to  him  now 
that  she  had  allowed  the  subject  to  drop 
without  any  expression  of  concurrence.  He 
took  leave  of  Lord  Thrapston  and  went  for 
a  solitary  walk.  He  wanted  to  think.  But 
the  position  of  affairs  was  such  that  other 
persons  also  felt  the  need  of  reflection,  and 
Calder  had  not  been  walking  by  the  Row 
very  long  before,  lifting  his  eyes,  he  saw  a 
young  man  approaching.  The  young  man 
was  not  attired  as  he  ought  to  have  been  : 
he  wore  a  light  suit,  a  dissolute  necktie,  and 
a  soft  wideawake  crammed  down  low  on  his 
head.  He  had  obviously  forsworn  the  vani- 
ties of  the  world  and  was  wearing  the  wil- 
low. He  came  up  to  Calder  and  held  out 
his  hand. 

"Went worth,"  he  said,  "I  left  you  rudely 
the  other  day.  I  was  doing  you  an  injus- 
tice. I  have  heard  the  truth  from  Mrs. 
Blunt.  You  are  free  from  all  blame.  We — 
we  are  fellow-sufferers." 

His  tones  were  so  mournful  that  Calder 
shook  his  hand  with  warm  sympathy,  and 
remarked, 

"  Pretty  rough  on  us  both,  ain't  it  ?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  261 

"  For  me,"  declared  Cliarlie,  "  everything 
is  over.  My  trust  in  woman  is  destroyed  ; 
my  pleasure  in  life  is " 

"  "Well,  I  don't  feel  A  1  myself,  old  chap," 
said  Calder. 

"  I  have  written  to — to  her,  to  say  good- 

by." 

"  No,  have  you,  though  ?  " 

"  "What  else  could  I  do  ?  "Wentworth,  do 
you  suppose  that,  even  if  she  was  free,  I 
would  think  of  her  for  another  moment  ? 
Can  there  be  love  where  there  is  no  esteem, 
no  trust,  no  confidence  ?  " 

"  I  was  just  thinking  that  when  you  came 
up,"  said  Calder. 

"  No,  at  whatever  cost,  I — every  self-re- 
specting man  —  must  consider  first  of  all 
what  he  owes  to  his  name,  to  his  family,  to 
his — "Wentworth,  to  his  unborn  children." 

Calder  nodded. 

"  You,  of  course,"  pursued  Charlie,  "  will 
be  guided  by  your  own  judgment.  As  to 
that,  the  circumstances  seal  my  lips." 

"  I  don't  like  it,  you  know,"  said  Calder. 

"  As  regards  you,  she  may  or  may  not  have 
excuses.  I  don't  know  ;  but  she  wilfully  and 
grossly  deceived  me.    I  have  done  with  her." 


2G2  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Gad,  I  believe  you're  right,  Merceron, 
old  chap!  A  chap  ought  to  stand  up  for 
himself,  by  Jove !  You'd  never  feel  safe 
with  her,  would  you,  by  Jove  ?  " 

"  Good-by,"  said  Charlie  suddenly.  "  I 
leave  Padding-ton  by  the  4.15." 

"  Where  are  you  off  to?  " 

"  Hell — I  mean  home,"  answered  Charlie 

Calder  beat  his  stick  against  his  leg. 

"  I  can't  stay  here  either,"  he  said  moodily 

Charlie  stretched  out  his  hand  again. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  he. 

"  Eh  ?  what  ?  " 

"  Come  with  me  ;  we'll  forget  her  to- 
gether." 

Calder  looked  at  him. 

"  Well,  you  are  a  good  chap.  Dashed  if  1 
don't.  Yes,  I  will.  We'll  enjoy  ourselves 
like  thunder.  But  I  say,  Merceron,  I — I 
ought  to  write  to  her,  oughtn't  I  ?  " 

"  I  am  just  going  to  write  myself." 

"  To — to  say  good-by,  eh  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"I  shall  write  and  break  it  off." 

"  Come  along.  We'll  go  to  your  rooms 
and  get  the  thing  done,  and  then  catch  the 
train.     My  luggage  is  at  the  station  now." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  263 

"It  won't  take  me  a  minute  to  get  mine." 

"  Wentworth,  I'm  glad  to  be  rid  of  her." 

"  Ah — oh,  weli — so  am  I,"  said  Calder. 

Late  that  evening  the  butler  presented 
Miss  Agatha  Glyn  with  two  letters  on  a 
salver.  As  her  eye  fell  on  the  addresses, 
she  started.  Her  heart  began  to  beat.  She 
sat  and  looked  at  the  two  momentous  mis- 
sives. 

"  Now  which,"  she  thought,  "  shall  I  read 
first  ?  And  what  shall  I  do,  if  they  are  both 
obstinate  ?  " 

There  was  another  contingency  which 
Miss  Glyn  did  not  contemplate. 

After  a  long  hesitation,  she  took  up  Char- 
lie's letter,  and  opened  it.  It  was  very  short, 
and  began  abruptly  without  any  words  of 
address  : 

"  I  have  received  your  letter.  Your  excuses 
make  it  worse.  I  could  forgive  everything 
except  deceit.  I  leave  London  to  -  day. 
Good-by.— C.  M." 

"  Deceit ! "  cried  Agatha.  "  How  dare 
he  ?     What  a  horrid  boy !  " 

She  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room 


264  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

in  a  state  of  great  indignation.  She  had 
never  been  talked  to  like  that  in  her  life  be- 
fore. It  was  ungentlemanly,  cruel,  brutal. 
She  flung  Charlie's  letter  angrily  down  on 
the  table. 

"  I  am  sure  poor  dear  old  Calder  won't 
treat  me  like  that!"  she  exclaimed,  taking 
up  his  letter. 

It  ran  thus : 

"  My  dear  Agatha  : — I  hope  you  will  be- 
lieve that  I  write  this  without  any  feeling  of 
anger  towards  you.  My  regard  for  you  re- 
mains very  great,  and  I  hope  we  shall  always 
be  very  good  friends ;  but,  after  long  and 
careful  consideration,  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  story  Lord  Thrapston 
told  me  shows  conclusively  what  I  have 
been  fearing  for  some  time  past  —  namely, 
that  I  have  not  been  so  lucky  as  to  win  a 
real  affection  from  you,  and  that  we  are  not 
likely  to  make  one  another  happy.  There- 
fore, thanking  you  very  much  for  your  kind- 
ness in  the  past,  I  think  I  had  better  restore 
your  liberty  to  you.  I  shall  hear  with  very 
great  pleasure  of  your  happiness.  I  leave 
town  to-day  for  a  little  while,  in  order  that 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  265 

you  may  not  be  exposed  to  the  awkwardness 
of  meeting-  me. 

"  Always  your  most  sincerely, 

"  Calder  Wentworth." 

Agatha  passed  her  hand  across  her  brow  ; 
then  she  re-read  Calder's  letter,  and  then 
Charlie's.  Yes,  there  was  not  the  least  doubt 
about  it !  Both  of  the  gentlemen  had — well, 
what  they  had  done  did  not  admit  of  being 
put  into  tolerable  words.  With  a  little 
shriek,  Agatha  flung  herself  on  the  sofa. 

The  door  opened  and  Lord  Thrapston 
entered. 

"Well,  Aggy,  what's  the  news?  Still 
bothered  by  your  two  young  men  ?  Hullo ! 
what's  wrong  ?  " 

"  Head  them  !  "  cried  Agatha,  with  a  gest- 
ure towards  the  table. 

"  Eh  ?    Bead  what  ?     Oh,  I  see." 

He  sat  down  at  the  table  and  put  on  his 
glasses.  Agatha  turned  her  face  towards 
the  wall ;  for  her  also  everything  was  over. 
For  a  time  no  sound  was  audible  save  an 
occasional  crackle  of  the  note-paper  in  Lord 
Thrapston's  shaking  fingers.  Then,  to 
Agatha's    indescribable    indignation,   there 


266  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

came  another  sort  of  crackle — a  dry,  grating, 
derisive  chuckle  —  from  that  flinty-hearted 
old  man,  her  grandfather. 

"  Good,  monstrous  good,  'pon  my  life  !  " 
said  he. 

"  You're  laughing  at  me! "  she  cried,  leap- 
ing up. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I'm  afraid  I  am." 

"  Oh,  how  cruel  men  are !  " 

"  H'm !  They're  both  men  of  spirit  evi- 
dently." 

"  Calder  I  can  just  understand.  I — per- 
haps I  did  treat  Calder  rather  badly " 

"  Oh,  you  go  so  far  as  to  admit  that,  do 
you,  Aggy  ?  " 

"  But  Charlie  !  Oh,  to  think  that  Charlie 
should  treat  me  like  that ! "  and  she  threw 
herself  on  the  sofa  again. 

Lord  Thrapston  sat  quite  still.  Presently 
Agatha  rose,  came  to  the  table,  and  took  up 
her  two  letters.  She  looked  at  them  both  ; 
and  the  old  man,  seeming  to  notice  nothing, 
yet  kept  his  eye  on  her. 

"  I  shall  destroy  these  things,"  said  she ; 
and  she  tore  Calder's  letter  into  tiny  frag- 
ments, and  flung  them  on  the  fire.  Charlie's 
she  crumpled  up  and  held  in  her  hand. 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  267 

"Good-night,  grandpapa,"  she  said  wear- 
ily, and  kissed  him. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear,"  he  answered. 

And,  whatever  she  did  when  she  went  up- 
stairs, Lord  Thrapston  was  in  a  position  to 
swear  that  Charlie's  letter  was  not  destroyed 
in  the  drawing-room. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  INCAENATION  OF  LADY  AGATHA 

"  She's  such  a  dear  good  girl,  Mr.  Went- 
worth,"  said  Lady  Merceron.  "She's  the 
greatest  comfort  I  have." 

It  was  after  luncheon  at  Langbury  Court. 
Lady  Merceron  and  Calder  sat  on  the  lawn ; 
Mrs.  Marland  and  Millie  Bushell  were  walk- 
ing up  and  down ;  Charlie  was  lying  in  a 
hammock.  A  week  had  passed  since  the  two 
young  men  had  startled  Lady  Merceron  by 
their  unexpected  arrival,  and  since  then  the 
good  lady  had  been  doing  her  best  to  enter- 
tain them  ;  for,  as  she  could  not  help  notic- 
ing, they  seemed  a  little  dull.  It  was  a 
great  change  from  the  whirl  of  London  to 
the  deep  placidity  of  the  Court,  and  Lady 
Merceron  could  not  quite  understand  why 
Charlie  had  tired  so  soon  of  his  excursion, 
or  whjr  his  friend  persisted  with  so  much 
fervor  that  anything  was  better  than  Lon- 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  269 

don,  and  the  Court  was  the  most  charming 
place  he  had  ever  seen.  Of  the  two  Charlie 
seemed  to  feel  the  ennui  much  the  more  se- 
verely. Yet,  while  Mr.  Wentworth  spoke  of 
returning  to  town  in  a  few  weeks,  Charlie 
asseverated  that  he  had  paid  his  last  visit 
to  that  revolting  and  disappointing  place. 
Lady  Merceron  wished  she  had  Uncle  Van 
by  her  side  to  explain  these  puzzling  incon- 
sistencies. However,  there  was  a  bright 
side  to  the  affair  :  the  presence  of  the  young 
men  was  a  godsend  to  poor  Millie,  who,  by 
reason  of  the  depressed  state  of  agricult- 
ure, had  been  obliged  this  year  to  go  with- 
out her  usual  six  weeks  of  London  in  the 
season. 

"  And  she  never  grumbles  about  it,"  said 
Lady  Merceron  admiringly.  "  She  looks 
after  her  district,  and  takes  a  ride,  and  plays 
tennis,  when  she  can  get  a  game,  poor  girl, 
and  is  always  cheerful  and  happy.  She'd  be 
a  treasure  of  a  wife  to  any  man." 

"You'd  better  persuade  Charlie  of  that, 
Lady  Merceron." 

"  Oh,  Charlie  never  thinks  of  such  a  thing 
as  marrying.  He  thinks  of  nothing  but  his 
antiquities  " 


270  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Doesn't  he  ?  "  asked  Calcler,  with  appar- 
ent sympathy  and  a  covert  sad  amusement. 

"  Mr.  Wentworth,"  said  Mrs.  Marland,  ap- 
proaching, "  I  believe  it's  actually  a  fact  that 
you've  been  here  a  week  and  have  never  yet 
been  to  the  Pool." 

At  this  fateful  word,  Calder  looked  embar- 
rassed, Charlie  raised  his  head  from  the 
hammock,  and  Millie  glanced  involuntarily 
towards  him. 

"  We  must  take  you,"  pursued  Mrs.  Mar- 
land,  "  this  very  evening.  You'll  come, 
Miss  Bushell  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  care  very  much  about  the 
Pool,"  said  Millie. 

"  We  won't  let  Mr.  Merceron  take  you  in 
his  canoe  this  time." 

Charlie  rolled  out  of  the  hammock  and 
came  up  to  them. 

"  You  must  take  us  to  the  Pool.  I  don't 
believe  you've  been  there  since  you  came 
back.     Poor  Agatha  will  quite " 

"  Agatha  ?  "  exclaimed  Calder. 

"  Agatha  Merceron,  you  know.  Why, 
haven't  you  heard ?  " 

"Oh,  ah !  Yes,  of  course.  I  beg  your 
pardon." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  271 

"  I  hate  that  beastly  Pool,"  said  Charlie. 

"  How  can  you  ?  "  smiled  Mrs.  Marland. 
"  You  used  to  spend  hours  there  every  even- 
ing." 

Charlie  glanced  uneasily  at  Calder,  who 
turned  very  red. 

"  Times  have  changed,  have  they  ?  "  Mrs. 
Marland  asked  archly.  "  You've  got  tired  of 
looking  in  vain  for  Agatha  ?  " 

"  Oh,  all  right,"  said  Charlie  crossly, 
"  we'll  go  after  tea." 

Anything  seemed  better  than  this  rallying 
mood  of  Mrs.  Marland's. 

Presently  the  two  young  men  went  off  to- 
gether to  play  a  game  at  billiards  ;  but  after 
half  a  dozen  strokes  Charlie  plumped  down 
in  a  chair. 

"  I  say,  Calder,  old  chap,  how  do  you 
feel  ?  "  he  asked. 

Calder  licked  his  cigar  meditatively. 

"  Better,"  said  he  at  last. 

"Oh!" 

"And  you?" 

"  Worse — worse  every  day.  I  can't  stand 
it,  old  chap.    I  shall  go  back." 

"What,  to  her?" 

"Yes." 


272  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  That's  hardly  sticking-  to  our  bargain, 
you  know." 

"  But,  hang  it,  what's  the  good  of  our  both 
cutting  her  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  did  it  because  you 
were  disgusted  with  her.  That  was  my 
reason." 

"  So  it  was  mine,  but " 

"  Probably  she's  got  some  other  fellow  by 
now,"  observed  Calder  calmly. 

"The  devil!"  cried  Charlie.  "What 
makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing.     I  know  her  way,  you  see." 

"You  think  she's  that  sort  of  girl? 
Good  heavens ! " 

"Well,  if  she  wasn't,  I'd  like  to  know 
where  you'd  be,  my  friend.  I  shouldn't 
have  the  honor  of  your  acquaintance." 

Charlie  ignored  this  point. 

"  And  yet  you  wanted  to  marry  her  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say  I  was  an  ass — like  better  men 
before  me — and — er — since  me." 

"  Hang  it ! "  cried  Charlie.  "  I'm  sick  of 
the  whole  thing.  I'm  sick  of  life.  I'm  sick 
of  all  the  nonsense  of  it.  For  two  straws 
I'd  have  done  with  it,  and  marry  Millie 
Bushell." 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  POOL  273 

"  What !    Look  here,  Charlie " 


Calder  left  his  sentence  unfinished. 

"Well?  "said  Charlie. 

"  If,"  said  Calder  slowly,  "  there  are  any 
girls,  either  down  here  or  in  London,  whom 
you're  quite  sure  you'll  never  want  to  marry, 
I  should  like  to  be  introduced  to  one  of  'em, 
Charlie,  if  you've  no  objections." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  in  fact,  during-  this  last  week,  Char- 
lie, I  have  come  to  have  a  great  esteem  for 
Miss  Bushell.  There's  about  her  a  some- 
thing— a  solidity " 

"  She  can't  help  that,  poor  girl." 

"  A  solidity  of  mind,"  said  Calder,  a  little 
stiffly. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon.  But  I  say,  Calder, 
what  are  you  driving  at  ?  " 

"  Charlie  !  Charlie ! "  sounded  from  out- 
side.    "  Tea's  ready." 

Calder  rose  and  took  Charlie  by  the  arm. 

"  Should  I  be  safe,"  he  asked  solemnly, 
"  in  allowing  myself  to  fall  in  love  with 
Miss  Bushell,  or  are  you  likely  to  step  in 
again  ?  " 

"  You  mean  it  ?     Honor  bright,  Calder  ?  " 

"Yes." 

18 


274  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"Where's  Bradshaw?  By  Jove,  where's 
Bradshaw  ?  " 

"  Bradshaw  ?  What  the  devil  has  Brad- 
shaw  ?  " 

"  Why,  a  train,  man — a  train  to  town." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  town,  bless  the 
man " 

"  You !  No,  but  I  do.  To  town,  Calder— 
to  Agatha,  you  old  fool." 

"  Oh,  that's  your  lay  ?  " 

"Yes,  of  course.  I  couldn't  go  back  on 
you,  but  if  you're  off " 

"Charlie,  old  fellow,  think  again." 

"  Go  to  the  deuce  !    Where's  that ?  " 

"Charlie,  Charlie!    Tea!" 

"  Hang  tea ! "  he  cried ;  but  Calder 
dragged  him  off,  telling  him  that  to-morrow 
would  do  for  Bradshaw. 

At  tea  Charlie's  spirits  were  very  much 
better,  and  it  was  observed  that  Calder 
Wentworth  paid  marked  attention  to  Millie 
Bushell,  so  that,  when  they  started  for  the 
Pool,  Millie  was  prevailed  upon  to  be  one  of 
the  party,  on  the  understanding  that  Mr. 
Wentworth  would  take  care  of  her.  This 
time  the  expedition  went  off  more  quietly 
than  it  had  previously,  but  at  the  last  mo- 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  POOL  275 

ment  the  ladies  declared  that  they  would  be 
late  for  dinner  if  they  waited  till  it  was  time 
for  Agatha  Merceron  to  come. 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  "  said  Calder.  "  Come 
over  to  the  temple,  Miss  Bushell.  I  won't 
upset  the  canoe." 

"  Well,  if  you  insist,"  said  Millie. 

Then  Mrs.  Marland  remarked  in  the  quiet- 
est voice  in  the  world — 

"  There's  some  one  in  the  temple." 

"What?"  cried  Millie. 

"  Eh  ?  "  exclaimed  Calder. 

"  Nonsense ! "  said  Charlie. 

"I  saw  a  face  at  the  window,"  insisted 
Mrs.  Marland. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Marland  !    Was  it  very  awful  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  Millie — very  pretty,"  and  she 
gave  Charlie  a  look  full  of  meaning. 

"  Look,  look  !  "  cried  Millie  in  strong  agi- 
tation. 

And,  as  they  looked,  a  slim  figure  in  white 
came  quietly  out  of  the  temple,  a  smile — and, 
alas !  no  vestige  of  a  blush — on  her  face, 
walked  composedly  down  the  steps,  and, 
standing  on  the  lowest  one,  thence — did  not 
throw  herself  into  the  water — but  called,  in 
the  most  natural  voice  in  the  world, 


276  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Which  of  you  is  coming  to  fetch  me  ?  " 

Charlie  looked  at  Calder.     Calder  said, 

"  I  think  you'd  better  put  her  across,  old 
man.  And  —  er — we  might  as  well  walk 
on." 

They  turned  away,  Millie's  eyes  wide  in 
surprise,  Mrs.  Marland  smiling  the  smile  of 
triumphant  sagacity. 

"  I  was  coming  to  you  to-morrow,"  cried 
Charlie  the  moment  his  canoe  bumped 
against  the  steps. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  staying  away 
a  whole  week  ?    How  could  you?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Charlie.  "  You  see, 
I  couldn't  come  till  Calder " 

"  Oh,  what  about  Calder  ?  " 

"  He's  all  right." 

"  "What  ?  Miss — the  girl  you  upset  out  of 
the  canoe  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  said  Charlie. 

"  Ah,  well !  "  said  Agatha.  "  But  how  very 
curious  !  "  Then  she  smiled  at  Charlie,  and 
asked, 

"  But  what  love  can  there  be,  Mr.  Merce- 
ron,  where  there  is  deceit  ?  " 

Charlie  took  no  notice  at  all  of  this  ques- 
tion. 


THE  LADY  OF  TIIE  POOL  277 

"Do  you  mind  Calder  going?"  he  whis- 
pered. 

"  Well,  not  much,"  said  Miss  Glyn. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  barony  of  Warmley 
returned  to  the  house  of  Merceron,  and  the 
portrait  of  the  wicked  lord  came  to  hang 
once  more  in  the  dining-room.  So  the  cur- 
tain falls  on  the  comedy ;  and  what  hap- 
pened afterwards  behind  the  scenes,  whether 
another  comedy,  or  a  tragedy,  or  a  mixed 
half-and-half  sort  of  entertainment,  now 
grave,  now  gay,  sometimes  perhaps  delight- 
ful, and  again  of  tempered  charm — why,  as 
to  all  this,  what  reck  the  spectators  who  are 
crowding  out  of  the  theatre  and  home  to 
bed? 

But  it  seems  as  if,  in  spite  of  certain 
drawbacks  in  Agatha  Merceron's  character, 
nothing  very  dreadful  can  have  happened, 
because  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wentworth,  who  are 
very  particular  folk,  went  to  stay  at  the 
Court  the  other  day,  and  their  only  com- 
plaint was  that  Charlie  and  his  bride  were 
always  at  the  Pool ! 

And,  for  his  own  part,  if  he  may  be  al- 
lowed a  word  (which  some  people  say  he 
ought  not  to  be)  here,  just  at  the  end,  the 


278  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

writer  begs  to  say  that  lie  once  knew  Agatha, 
and — he  would  have  taken  the  risks.  How- 
ever, a  lady  to  whom  he  has  shown  this  his- 
tory differs  entirely  from  him,  and  thinks 
that  no  sensible  man  would  have  married 
her.    But,  then,  that  is  not  the  question. 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS 

I  MUST  confess  at  once  that  at  first,  at 
least,  I  very  much  admired  the  curate. 
I  am  not  referring  to  my  admiration  of  his 
fine  figure — six  feet  high  and  straight  as  an 
arrow — nor  of  his  handsome,  open,  ingenu- 
ous countenance,  or  his  candid  blue  eye,  or 
his  thick  curly  hair.  No ;  what  won  my 
heart  from  an  early  period  of  my  visit  to 
my  cousins,  the  Poltons  of  Poltons  Park, 
was  the  fervent,  undisguised,  unashamed, 
confident,  and  altogether  matter-of-course 
manner  in  which  he  made  love  to  Miss 
Beatrice  Queenborough,  only  daughter  and 
heiress  of  the  wealthy  shipowner  Sir  Wag- 
staff  Queenborough,  Bart.,  and  Eleanor  his 
wife.  It  was  purely  the  manner  of  the  cu- 
rate's advances  that  took  my  fancy :  in  the 
mere  fact  of  them  there  was  nothing  re- 
markable. For  all  the  men  in  the  house 
(and  a  good  many  outside)  made  covert, 


282  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

stealthy,  and  indirect  steps  in  the  same  di- 
rection ;  for  Trix  (as  her  friends  called  her) 
was,  if  not  wise,  at  least  pretty  and  witty, 
displaying-  to  the  material  eye  a  charming- 
figure,  and  to  the  mental  a  delicate  heart- 
lessness — both  attributes  which  challenge  a 
self-respecting  man's  best  efforts.  But  then 
came  the  fatal  obstacle.  From  heiresses  in 
reason  a  gentleman  need  neither  shrink  nor 
let  himself  be  driven ;  but  when  it  comes  to 
something  like  twenty  thousand  a  year — 
the  reported  amount  of  Trix's  dot — he  dis- 
trusts his  own  motives  almost  as  much  as 
the  lady's  relatives  distrust  them  for  him. 
We  all  felt  this — Stanton,  Bippleby,  and  I ; 
and,  although  I  will  not  swear  that  we 
spoke  no  tender  words  and  gave  no  mean- 
ing glances,  yet  we  reduced  such  conces- 
sions to  natural  weakness  to  a  minimum, 
not  only  when  Lady  Queenborough  was  by, 
but  at  all  times.  To  say  truth,  we  had  no 
desire  to  see  our  scalps  affixed  to  Miss 
Trix's  pretty  belt,  nor  to  have  our  hearts 
broken  (like  that  of  the  young  man  in  the 
poem)  before  she  went  to  Homburg  in  the 
autumn. 
With  the  curate  it  was  otherwise.    He — 


TEE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  283 

Jack  Ives,  by  the  way,  was  his  name — ap- 
peared to  rush,  not  only  upon  his  fate,  but 
in  the  face  of  all  possibility  and  of  Lady 
Queenborough.  My  cousin  and  hostess, 
Dora  Polton,  was  very  much  distressed 
about  him.  She  said  that  he  was  such  a 
nice  young  fellow,  and  that  it  was  a  great 
pity  to  see  him  preparing  such  unhappiness 
for  himself.  Nay,  I  happen  to  know  that 
she  spoke  very  seriously  to  Trix,  pointing 
out  the  wickedness  of  trifling  with  him  ; 
whereupon  Trix,  who  maintained  a  bowing 
acquaintance  with  her  conscience,  avoided 
him  for  a  whole  afternoon  and  endangered 
all  Algy  Stanton's  prudent  resolutions  by 
taking  him  out  in  the  Canadian  canoe.  This 
demonstration  in  no  way  perturbed  the  cu- 
rate. He  observed  that,  as  there  was  noth- 
ing better  to  do,  we  might  as  well  play  bill- 
iards, and  proceeded  to  defeat  me  in  three 
games  of  a  hundred  up  (no,  it  is  quite  im- 
material whether  we  played  for  anything  or 
not),  after  which  he  told  Dora  that  the  vicar 
was  taking  the  evening  service — it  hap- 
pened to  be  the  day  when  there  was  one  at 
the  parish  church  —  a  piece  of  information 
only  relevant  in  so  far  as  it  suggested  that 


284  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Mr.  Ives  could  accept  an  invitation  to  din- 
ner if  one  were  proffered  to  him.  Dora, 
very  weakly,  rose  to  the  bait ;  Jack  Ives, 
airily  remarking  that  there  was  no  use  in 
ceremony  among-  friends,  seized  the  place 
next  to  Trix  at  dinner  (her  mother  was  just 
opposite)  and  walked  on  the  terrace  after 
dinner  with  her  in  the  moonlight.  When 
the  ladies  retired  he  came  into  the  smoking- 
room,  drank  a  whiskey-and-soda,  said  that 
Miss  Queenborough  was  really  a  very  charm- 
ing companion,  and  apologized  for  leaving 
us  early  on  the  ground  that  his  sermon  was 
still  unwritten.  My  good  cousin,  the  squire, 
suggested  rather  grimly  that  a  discourse  on 
the  vanity  of  human  wishes  might  be  ap- 
propriate. 

"I  shall  preach,"  said  Mr.  Ives  thought- 
fully, "  on  the  opportunities  of  wealth." 

This  resolution  he  carried  out  on  the  next 
day  but  one,  that  being  a  Sunday.  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  sitting  next  to  Miss  Trix, 
and  I  watched  her  with  some  interest  as 
Mr.  Ives  developed  his  theme.  I  will  not 
try  to  reproduce  the  sermon,  which  would 
have  seemed  by  no  means  a  bad  one,  had 
any  of  our  party  been  able  to  ignore  the 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  2S5 

personal  application  which  we  read  into  it : 
for  its  main  burden  was  no  other  than  this — 
that  wealth  should  be  used  by  those  who 
were  fortunate  enough  to  possess  it  (here 
Trix  looked  down  and  fidgeted  with  her 
prayer-book)  as  a  means  of  promoting 
greater  union  between  themselves  and  the 
less  richly  endowed,  and  not — as,  alas,  had 
too  often  been  the  case — as  though  it  were 
a  new  barrier  set  up  between  them  and 
their  fellow  -  creatures.  (Here  Miss  Trix 
blushed  slightly,  and  had  recourse  to  her 
smelling-bottle.)  "You,"  said  the  curate, 
waxing  rhetorical  as  he  addressed  an  imag- 
inary, but  bloated,  capitalist,  "  have  no 
more  right  to  your  money  than  I  have.  It 
is  intrusted  to  you  to  be  shared  with  me." 
At  this  point  I  heard  Lady  Queenborough 
sniff,  and  Algy  Stanton  snigger.  I  stole  a 
glance  at  Trix  and  detected  a  slight  waver 
in  the  admirable  lines  of  her  mouth. 

"  A  very  good  sermon,  didn't  you  think  ?  " 
I  said  to  her,  as  we  walked  home. 

"  Oh,  very,"  she  replied  demurely. 

"Ah,  if  we  followed  all  we  heard  in 
church  ! "  I  sighed. 

Miss  Trix  walked    in   silence  for  a   few 


286  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

yards.  By  dint  of  never  becoming  anything" 
else,  we  had  become  very  good  friends  ;  and 
presently  she  remarked,  quite  confidentially, 

"  He's  very  silly,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"Then  you  ought  to  snub  him,"  said  I, 
severely. 

"  So  I  do — sometimes.  He's  rather  amus- 
ing, though." 

"  Of  course,  if  you're  prepared  to  make 
the  sacrifice  involved " 

"  Oh,  what  nonsense !  " 

"  Then  you've  no  business  to  amuse  your- 
self with  him." 

"  Dear,  dear !  how  moral  you  are ! "  said 
Trix. 

The  next  development  in  the  situation 
was  this.  My  cousin  Dora  received  a  letter 
from  the  Marquis  of  Newhaven,  with  whom 
she  was  acquainted,  praying  her  to  allow 
him  to  run  down  to  Pol  tons  for  a  few  days  : 
he  reminded  her  that  she  had  once  given 
him  a  general  invitation  :  if  it  would  not  be 
inconvenient — and  so  forth.  The  meaning 
of  this  communication  did  not,  of  course, 
escape  my  cousin,  who  had  witnessed  the 
writer's  attentions  to  Trix  in  the  preceding 
season,  nor  did  it  escape  the  rest  of  us  (who 


TIIE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  2S7 

had  talked  over  the  said  attentions  at  the 
club)  when  she  told  us  about  it,  and  an- 
nounced that  Lord  Newhaven  would  arrive 
in  the  middle  of  next  day.  Trix  affected 
dense  unconsciousness  ;  her  mother  allowed 
herself  a  mysterious  smile — which,  however, 
speedily  vanished  when  the  curate  (he  was 
taking-  lunch  with  us)  observed  in  a  cheer- 
ful tone, 

"  Newhaven !  oh,  I  remember  the  chap  at 
the  House  —  ploughed  twice  in  Smalls  — 
stumpy  fellow,  isn't  he  ?  Not  a  bad  chap, 
though,  you  know,  barring  his  looks.  I'm 
glad  he's  coming." 

"  You  won't  be  soon,  young  man,"  Lady 
Queenborough's  angry  eye  seemed  to  say. 

"  I  remember  him,"  pursued  Jack,  "  aw- 
fully smitten  with  a  tobacconist's  daughter 
in  the  Corn — oh,  it's  all  right,  Lady  Queen- 
borough — she  wouldn't  look  at  him." 

This  quasi-apology  was  called  forth  by 
the  fact  of  Lady  Queenborough  pushing 
back  her  chair  and  making  for  the  door.  It 
did  not  at  all  appease  her  to  hear  of  the 
scorn  of  the  tobacconist's  daughter.  She 
glared  sternly  at  Jack,  and  disappeared. 
He  turned  to  Trix  and  reminded  her — with- 


288  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

out  diffidence  and  coram  populo,  as  his  habit 
was,  that  she  had  promised  him  a  stroll  in 
the  west  wood. 

What  happened  on  that  stroll  I  do  not 
know  ;  but  meeting  Miss  Trix  on  the  stairs 
later  in  the  afternoon,  I  ventured  to  remark, 

"  I  hope  you  broke  it  to  him  gently,  Miss 
Queenborough  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  replied 
Trix,  haughtily. 

"  You  were  out  nearly  two  hours,"  said  I. 

"  Were  we?"  asked  Trix  with  a  start. 
"  Good  gracious !  Where  was  mamma,  Mr. 
Wynne  ?  " 

"  On  the  lawn — watch  in  hand." 

Miss  Trix  went  slowly  upstairs,  and  there 
is  not  the  least  doubt  that  something  seri- 
ous passed  between  her  and  her  mother,  for 
both  of  them  were  in  the  most  atrocious  of 
humors  that  evening ;  fortunately  the  cu- 
rate was  not  there.     He  had  a  Bible  class. 

The  next  day  Lord  Newhaven  arrived.  I 
found  him  on  the  lawn  when  I  strolled  up, 
after  a  spell  of  letter-writing,  about  four 
o'clock.  Lawn-tennis  was  the  order  of  the 
day,  and  we  were  all  in  flannels. 

"  Oh,  here's  Mark,"  cried  Dora,  seeing  me. 


THE  CURATE  OE  POLTONS  289 

"  Now,  Mark,  you  and  Mr.  Ives  had  better 
play  against  Trix  and  Lord  Newhaven. 
That'll  make  a  very  good  set." 

"  No,  no,  Mrs.  Polton,"  said  Jack  Ives. 
"  They  wouldn't  have  a  chance.  Look  here, 
I'll  play  with  Miss  Queenborough  against 
Lord  Newhaven  and  Wynne." 

Newhaven  —  whose  appearance,  by  the 
way,  though  hardly  distinguished,  was  not 
quite  so  unornamental  as  the  curate  had  led 
us  to  expect  — looked  slightly  displeased, 
but  Jack  gave  him  no  time  for  remonstrance. 
He  whisked  Trix  off,  and  began  to  serve  all 
in  a  moment.  I  had  a  vision  of  Lady  Queen- 
borough  approaching  from  the  house  with 
face  aghast.  The  set  went  on ;  and,  owing 
entirely  to  Newhaven's  absurd  chivalry  in 
sending  all  the  balls  to  Jack  Ives  instead  of 
following  the  well-known  maxim  to  "  pound 
away  at  the  lady,"  they  beat  us.  Jack  wiped 
his  brow,  strolled  up  to  the  tea-table  with 
Trix,  and  remarked  in  exultant  tones  : 

"  We  make  a  perfect  couple,  Miss  Queen- 
borough  ;  we  ought  never  to  be  separated." 

Dora  did  not  ask  the  curate  to  dinner  that 
night,  but  he  dropped  in  about  nine  o'clock 
to  ask  her  opinion  as  to  the  hymns  on  Sun- 
19 


290  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

day  ;  and  finding-  Miss  Trix  and  Newhaven 
in  the  small  drawing-room  he  sat  down  and 
talked  to  them.  This  was  too  much  for 
Trix  ;  she  had  treated  him  very  kindly  and 
had  allowed  him  to  amuse  her ;  but  it  was 
impossible  to  put  up  with  presumption  of 
that  kind.  Difficult  as  it  was  to  discourage 
Mr.  Ives,  she  did  it,  and  he  went  away  with 
a  disconsolate,  puzzled  expression.  At  the 
last  moment,  however,  Trix  so  far  relented 
as  to  express  a  hope  that  he  was  coming  to 
tennis  to-morrow,  at  which  he  brightened 
up  a  little.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  uncharita- 
ble— least  of  all  to  a  charming  young  lady — 
but  my  opinion  is  that  Miss  Trix  did  not 
wish  to  set  the  curate  altogether  adrift.  I 
think,  however,  that  Lady  Queenborough 
must  have  spoken  again,  for  when  Jack  did 
come  to  tennis,  Trix  treated  him  with  the 
most  freezing  civility  and  a  hardly  disguised 
disdain,  and  devoted  herself  to  Lord  New- 
haven  with  as  much  assiduity  as  her  mother 
could  wish.  We  men,  over  our  pipes,  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  Jack  Ives's  little 
hour  of  sunshine  was  passed,  and  that  noth- 
ing was  left  to  us  but  to  look  on  at  the  pros- 
j>erous  uneventful  course  of  Lord  Newhaven's 


THE  CURATE  OF  POL  TONS  291 

wooing1.  Trix  had  had  her  fun  (so  Algy 
Stanton  bluntly  phrased  it)  and  would  now 
settle  down  to  business. 

"  I  believe,  though,"  he  added,  "  that  she 
likes  the  curate  a  bit,  you  know." 

During-  the  whole  of  the  next  day — Wed- 
nesday— Jack  Ives  kept  away ;  he  had,  ap- 
parently, accepted  the  inevitable,  and  was 
healing  his  wounded  heart  by  a  strict  atten- 
tion to  his  parochial  duties.  Newhaven  re- 
marked on  his  absence  with  an  air  of  relief  ; 
and  Miss  Trix  treated  it  as  a  matter  of  no 
importance ;  Lady  Queenborough  was  all 
smiles ;  and  Dora  Polton  restricted  herself 
to  exclaiming,  as  I  sat  by  her  at  tea,  in  a  low 
tone  and  a  propos  of  nothing  in  particular, 
"  Oh,  well— poor  Mr.  Ives !  " 

But  on  Thursday  there  occurred  an  event, 
the  significance  of  which  passed  at  the  mo- 
ment unperceived,  but  which  had,  in  fact, 
most  important  results.  This  was  no  other 
than  the  arrival  of  little  Mrs.  Wentworth,  an 
intimate  friend  of  Dora's.  Mrs.  Wentworth 
had  been  left  a  widow  early  in  life  ;  she  pos- 
sessed a  comfortable  competence  ;  she  was 
not  handsome,  but  she  was  vivacious,  amus- 
ing, and,  above  all,  sympathetic.     She  sym- 


292  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

pathized  at  once  with  Lady  Queenborough 
in  her  maternal  anxieties,  with  Trix  on  her 
charming1  romance,  with  Newhaven  on  his 
sweet  devotedness,  with  the  rest  of  us  in 
our  obvious  desolation — and,  after  a  confi- 
dential chat  with  Dora,  she  sympathized 
most  strongly  with  poor  Mr.  Ives  on  his 
unfortunate  attachment.  Nothing  would 
satisfy  her,  so  Dora  told  me,  except  the  op- 
portunity of  plying  Mr.  Ives  with  her  sooth- 
ing balm  ;  and  Dora  was  about  to  sit  down 
and  write  him  a  note,  when  he  strolled  in 
through  the  drawing-room  window,  and  an- 
nounced that  his  cook's  mother  was  ill,  and 
that  he  should  be  very  much  obliged  if  Mrs. 
Polton  would  give  him  some  dinner  that 
evening.  Trix  and  Newhaven  happened  to 
enter  by  the  door  at  the  same  moment,  and 
Jack  darted  up  to  them,  and  shook  hands 
with  the  greatest  effusion.  He  had  evi- 
dently buried  all  unkindness — and  with  it, 
we  hoped,  his  mistaken  folly.  However 
that  might  be,  he  made  no  effort  to  engross 
Trix,  but  took  his  seat  most  docilely  by  his 
hostess — and  she,  of  course,  introduced  him 
to  Mrs.  Wentworth.  His  behavior,  was,  in 
fact,  so  exemplary,  that  even  Lady  Queen- 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  293 

borough  relaxed  her  severity,  and  conde- 
scended to  cross-examine  him  on  the  morals 
and  manners  of  the  old  women  of  the  par- 
ish. "  Oh,  the  Vicar  looks  after  them,"  said 
Jack;  and  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Wentworth 
again. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Mrs.  Went- 
worth had  a  remarkable  power  of  sympathy. 
I  took  her  into  dinner,  and  she  was  deep  in 
the  subject  of  my  "  noble  and  inspiring  art," 
before  the  soup  was  off  the  table.  Indeed, 
I'm  sure  that  my  life's  ambitions  would 
have  been  an  open  book  to  her  by  the  time 
that  the  joint  arrived,  had  not  Jack  Ives, 
who  was  sitting  on  the  lady's  other  side,  cut 
into  the  conversation  just  as  Mrs.  Wentworth 
was  comparing  my  early  struggles  with 
those  of  Mr.  Carlyle.  After  this  interven- 
tion of  Jack's  I  had  not  a  chance.  I  ate  my 
dinner  without  the  sauce  of  sympathy,  sub- 
stituting for  it  a  certain  amusement  which  I 
derived  from  studying  the  face  of  Miss  Trix 
Queenborough,  who  was  placed  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  table.  And  if  Trix  did 
look  now  and  again  at  Mrs.  Wentworth  and 
Jack  Ives,  I  cannot  say  that  her  conduct 
was  unnatural.    To  tell  the  truth,  Jack  was 


294  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

so  obviously  delighted  with  his  new  friend 
that  it  was  quite  pleasant — and,  as  I  say, 
under  the  circumstances,  rather  amusing — 
to  watch  them.  We  felt  that  the  Squire  was 
justified  in  having  a  hit  at  Jack  when  Jack 
said,  in  the  smoking-room,  that  he  found 
himself  rather  at  a  loss  for  a  subject  for  his 
next  sermon. 

"  What  do  you  say,"  suggested  my  cousin, 
puffing  at  his  pipe,  "  to  taking  constancy  as 
your  text  ?  " 

Jack  considered  the  idea  for  a  moment, 
but  then  he  shook  his  head. 

"  No.  I  think,"  he  said,  reflectively,  "  that 
I  shall  preach  on  the  power  of  sympathy." 

That  sermon  afforded  me — I  must  confess 
it,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  frivolous — very 
great  entertainment.  Again  I  secured  a 
place  by  Miss  Trix — on  her  left,  Newhaven 
being  on  her  right,  and  her  face  was  worth 
study  when  Jack  Ives  gave  us  a  most  elo- 
quent description  of  the  wonderful  gift  in 
question.  It  was,  he  said,  the  essence  and 
the  crown  of  true  womanliness,  and  it 
showed  itself — well,  to  put  it  quite  plainly,  it 
showed  itself,  according  to  Jack  Ives,  in  ex- 
actly that  sort  of  manner  and  bearing  which 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  295 

so  honorably  and  gracefully  distinguished 
Mrs.  "Wentworth.  The  lady  was  not,  of 
course,  named,  but  she  was  clearly  indicated. 
"  Your  gift,  your  precious  gift,"  cried  the 
curate,  apostrophizing  the  impersonation  of 
sympathy,  "  is  given  to  you,  not  for  your 
profit,  but  for  mine.  It  is  yours,  but  it  is  a 
trust  to  be  used  for  me.  It  is  yours,  in  fact, 
to  share  with  me."  At  this  climax,  which 
must  have  struck  upon  her  ear  with  a  certain 
familiarity,  Miss  Trix  Queenborough,  not- 
withstanding the  place  and  occasion,  tossed 
her  pretty  head  and  whispered  to  me, "  What 
horrid  stuff!" 

In  the  ensuing  week  Jack  Ives  was  our 
constant  companion  ;  the  continued  illness 
of  his  servant's  mother  left  him  stranded, 
and  Dora's  kind  heart  at  once  offered  him 
the  hospitality  of  her  roof.  For  my  part  I 
was  glad,  for  the  little  drama  which  now  be- 
gan was  not  without  its  interest.  It  was  a 
pleasant  change  to  see  Jack  genially  polite 
to  Trix  Queenborough,  but  quite  indifferent 
to  her  presence  or  absence,  and  content  to 
allow  her  to  take  Newhaven  for  her  partner 
at  tennis  as  often  as  she  pleased.  He  him- 
self was  often  an  absentee  from  our  games. 


296  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Mrs.  Wentworth  did  not  play,  and  Jack  would 
sit  under  the  trees  with  her,  or  take  her  out 
in  the  canoe.  What  Trix  thought  I  did  not 
know,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  she  treated  poor 
Newhaven  like  dirt  beneath  her  feet,  and 
that  Lady  Queenborough's  face  began  to 
lose  its  transiently  pleasant  expression.  I 
had  a  vague  idea  that  a  retribution  was 
working  itself  out,  and  disposed  myself  to 
see  the  process  with  all  the  complacency  in- 
duced by  the  spectacle  of  others  receiving 
punishment  for  their  sins. 

A  little  scene  which  occurred  after  lunch 
one  day  was  significant.  I  was  sitting  on 
the  terrace,  ready  booted  and  breeched, 
waiting  for  my  horse  to  be  brought  round. 
Trix  came  out  and  sat  down  by  me. 

"  "W  here's  Newhaven  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  always  want  Lord  New- 
haven," she  exclaimed  petulantly ;  "  I  sent 
him  off  for  a  walk  —  I'm  going  out  in  the 
Canadian  canoe  with  Mr.  Ives." 

"  Oh,  you  are,  are  you  ?  "  said  I  smiling. 
As  I  spoke,  Jack  Ives  ran  up  to  us. 

"  I  say,  Miss  Queenborough,"  he  cried, 
"I've  just  got  your  message  saying  you'd 
let  me  take  you  on  the  lake." 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  297 

"  Is  it  a  great  bore  ?  "  asked  Trix,  with  a 
glance — a  glance  that  meant  mischief. 

"I  should  like  it  awfully,  of  course,"  said 
Jack  ;  "  but  the  fact  is  I've  promised  to  take 
Mrs.  Wentworth — before  I  got  your  message, 
you  know." 

Trix  drew  herself  up. 

"Of  course,  if  Mrs.  Wentworth  "—she 
began. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,"  said  Jack. 

Then  Miss  Queenborough,  forgetting — 
as  I  hope  —  or  choosing  to  disregard  my 
presence,  leant  forward  and  asked  in  her 
most  coaxing  tones, 

"  Don't  you  ever  forget  a  promise,  Mr. 
Ives?" 

Jack  looked  at  her.  I  suppose  her  dainty 
prettiness  struck  him  afresh,  for  he  wavered 
and  hesitated. 

"  She's  gone  upstairs,"  pursued  the  tempt- 
er, "  and  we  shall  be  safe  away  before  she 
comes  down  again." 

Jack  shuffled  with  one  foot  on  the  gravel. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  he  said.  "  I'll  ask  her 
if  she  minds  me  taking  you  for  a  little  while 
before  I " 

I  believe  he  really  thought  that  he  had 


298  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

hit  upon  a  compromise  satisfactory  to  all 
parties.  If  so,  lie  was  speedily  undeceived. 
Trix  flushed  red  and  answered  angrily, 

"  Pray  don't  trouble.     I  don't  want  to  go." 

"  Perhaps  afterwards  you  might  —  "  sug- 
gested the  curate,  but  now  rather  timidly. 

"I'm  going  out  with  Lord  Newhaven," 
said  she.  And  she  added  in  an  access  of 
uncontrollable  annoyance,  "  Go,  please  go. 
I — I  don't  want  you." 

Jack  sheered  off,  with  a  look  of  puzzled 
shamefacedness.  He  disappeared  into  the 
house.  Nothing  passed  between  Miss  Trix 
and  myself.  A  moment  later  Newhaven 
came  out. 

"  Why,  Miss  Queenborough,"  said  he,  in 
apparent  surprise,  "  Ives  is  going  with  Mrs. 
Wentworth  in  the  canoe !  " 

In  an  instant  I  saw  what  she  had  done. 
In  rash  presumption  she  had  told  Newhaven 
that  she  was  going  with  the  curate  —  and 
now  the  curate  had  refused  to  take  her — and 
Ives  had  met  him  in  search  of  Mrs.  Went- 
worth. What  could  she  do  ?  Well,  she 
rose — or  fell — to  the  occasion.  In  the  cold- 
est of  voices  she  said, 

"I  thought  you'd  gone  for  your  walk." 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  299 

"  I  was  just  starting1,"  he  answered  apolo- 
getically, "  when  I  met  Ives.     But,  as  you 

weren't  going-  with   him "     He   paused, 

an  inquiring  look  in  his  eyes.  He  was  evi- 
dently asking  himself  why  she  had  not  gone 
with  the  curate. 

"  I'd  rather  be  left  alone,  if  you  don't 
mind,"  said  she.  And  then,  flushing  red 
again,  she  added.  "  I  changed  my  mind  and 
refused  to  go  with  Mr.  Ives.  So  he  went  off 
to  get  Mrs.  Wentworth  instead." 

I  started.  Newhaven  looked  at  her  for  an 
instant,  and  then  turned  on  his  heel.  She 
turned  to  me,  quick  as  lightning,  and  with 
her  face  all  aflame, 

"  If  you  tell,  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again," 
she  whispered. 

After  this  there  was  silence  for  some  min- 
utes. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said,  without  looking  at  me. 

"  I  have  no  remark  to  offer,  Miss  Queen- 
borough,"  I  returned. 

"  I  suppose  that  was  a  lie,  wasn't  it  ?  "  she 
asked,  defiantly. 

"  It's  not  my  business  to  say  what  it  was," 
was  my  discreet  answer. 

"I  know  what  you're  thinking." 


300  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  was  thinking-,"  said  I,  "  which  I  would 
rather  be — the  man  you  will  marry,  or  the 
man  you  would  like " 

"  How  dare  you  ?  It's  not  true.  Oh,  Mr. 
Wynne,  indeed  it's  not  true ! " 

Whether  it  were  true  or  not  I  did  not 
know.  But  if  it  had  been,  Miss  Trix  Queen- 
borough  might  have  been  expected  to  act 
very  much  in  the  way  in  which  she  pro- 
ceeded to  act :  that  is  to  say,  to  be  extrava- 
gantly attentive  to  Lord  Newhaven  when 
Jack  Ives  was  present,  and  markedly  neg- 
lectful of  him  in  the  curate's  absence.  It 
also  fitted  in  very  well  with  the  theory  which 
I  had  ventured  to  hint,  that  her  bearing 
towards  Mrs.  Wentworth  was  distinguished 
by  a  stately  civility,  and  her  remarks  about 
that  lady  by  a  superfluity  of  laudation  ;  for 
if  these  be  not  two  distinguishing  marks  of 
rivalry  in  the  well-bred,  I  must  go  back  to 
my  favorite  books  and  learn  from  them — 
more  folly.  And  if  Trix's  manners  were  all 
that  they  should  be,  praise  no  less  high 
must  be  accorded  to  Mrs.  Wentworth's  ;  she 
attained  an  altitude  of  admirable  uncon- 
sciousness, and  conducted  her  flirtation  (the 
poverty  of  language  forces  me  to  the  word, 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  301 

but  it  is  over  flippant)  with  the  curate  in  a 
staid,  quasi-maternal  way.  She  called  him 
a  delightful  boy,  and  said  that  she  was  in- 
tensely interested  in  all  his  aims  and  hopes. 

"  What  does  she  want  ?  "  I  asked  Dora,  de- 
spairingly. "  She  can't  want  to  marry  him." 
I  was  referring  to  Trix  Queenborough,  not 
to  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"  Good  gracious,  no ! "  answered  Dora,  ir- 
ritably. "It's  simple  jealousy.  She  won't 
let  the  poor  boy  alone  till  he's  in  love  with 
her  again.     It's  a  horrible  shame !  " 

"  Oh,  well,  he  has  great  recuperative 
power,"  said  I. 

"She'd  better  be  careful,  though.  It's  a 
very  dangerous  game.  How  do  you  suppose 
Lord  Newhaven  likes  it  ?  " 

Accident  gave  me  that  very  day  a  hint  how 
little  Lord  Newhaven  liked  it,  and  a  glimpse 
of  the  risk  Miss  Trix  was  running.  Enter- 
ing the  library  suddenly,  I  heard  New- 
haven's  voice  raised  above  his  ordinary 
tones. 

"  I  won't  stand  it,"  he  was  declaring.  "  I 
never  know  how  she'll  treat  me  from  one 
minute  to  the  next." 

My  entrance,  of  course,  stopped  the  con- 


302  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

versation  very  abruptly.  Newhaven  had 
come  to  a  stand  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
and  Lady  Queenborough  sat  on  the  sofa,  a 
formidable  frown  on  her  brow.  Withdraw- 
ing myself  as  rapidly  as  possible,  I  argued 
the  probability  of  a  severe  lecture  for  Miss 
Trix,  ending  in  a  command  to  try  her  noble 
suitor's  patience  no  longer.  I  hope  all  this 
happened,  for  I,  not  seeing  why  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  should  monopolize  the  grace  of  sym- 
pathy, took  the  liberty  of  extending  mine  to 
Newhaven.  He  was  certainly  in  love  with 
Trix,  not  with  her  money,  and  the  treatment 
he  underwent  must  have  been  as  trying  to 
his  feelings  as  it  was  galling  to  his  pride. 

My  sympathy  was  not  premature,  for  Miss 
Trix's  fascinations,  which  were  indubitably 
great,  began  to  have  their  effect.  The  scene 
about  the  canoe  was  re-enacted,  but  with  a 
different  denouement.  This  time  the  promise 
was  forgotten,  and  the  widow  forsaken. 
Then  Mrs.  Wentworth  put  on  her  armor. 
We  had,  in  fact,  reached  this  very  absurd 
situation,  that  these  two  ladies  were  con- 
tending for  the  favors  of,  or  the  domination 
over,  such  an  obscure,  poverty-stricken, 
hopelessly  ineligible  person  as  the  curate  of 


THE  CURATE  OF  P0LT0N8  303 

Poltons  undoubtedly  was.  The  position 
seemed  to  me  then,  and  still  seems,  to  indi- 
cate some  remarkable  qualities  in  that  young- 
man. 

At  last  Newhaven  made  a  move.  At 
breakfast,  on  "Wednesday  morning-,  he  an- 
nounced that,  reluctant  as  he  should  be  to 
leave  Poltons  Park,  he  was  due  at  his  aunt's 
place,  in  Kent,  on  Saturday  evening,  and 
must  therefore  make  his  arrangements  to 
leave  by  noon  on  that  day.  The  significance 
was  apparent.  Had  he  come  down  to  break- 
fast with  "  Now  or  Never !  "  stamped  in  fiery 
letters  across  his  brow,  it  would  have  been 
more  obtrusive,  indeed,  but  not  a  whit 
plainer.  We  all  looked  down  at  our  plates, 
except  Jack  Ives.  He  flung  one  glance  (I 
saw  it  out  of  the  corner  of  my  left  eye)  at 
Newhaven,  another  at  Trix;  then  he  re- 
marked kindly — 

"We  shall  be  uncommonly  sorry  to  lose 
you,  Newhaven." 

Events  began  to  happen  now,  and  I  will 
tell  them  as  well  as  I  am  able,  supplement- 
ing my  own  knowledge  by  what  I  learnt 
afterwards  from  Dora — she  having  learnt  it 
from  the   actors  in  the  scene.    In  spite  of 


304  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

the  solemn  warning-  conveyed  in  Newhaven's 
intimation,  Trix,  greatly  daring,  went  off  im- 
mediately after  lunch  for  what  she  described 
as  "  a  long  ramble  "  with  Mr.  Ives.  There 
was,  indeed,  the  excuse  of  an  old  woman  at 
the  end  of  the  ramble,  and  Trix  provided 
Jack  with  a  small  basket  of  comforts  for  the 
useful  old  body ;  but  the  ramble  was,  we 
felt,  the  thing,  and  I  was  much  annoyed  at 
not  being  able  to  accompany  the  walkers  in 
the  cloak  of  darkness  or  other  invisible  con- 
trivance. The  ramble  consumed  three  hours 
— full  measure.  Indeed,  it  was  half -past  six 
before  Trix,  alone,  walked  up  the  drive. 
Newhaven,  a  solitary  figure,  paced  up  and 
down  the  terrace  fronting  the  drive.  Trix 
came  on,  her  head  thrown  back  and  a  steady 
smile  on  her  lips.  She  saw  Newhaven  :  he 
stood  looking  at  her  for  a  moment  with  what 
she  afterwards  described  as  an  indescribable 
smile  on  his  face,  but  not,  as  Dora  under- 
stood from  her,  by  any  means  a  pleasant 
one.  Yet,  if  not  pleasant,  there  is  not  the 
least  doubt  in  the  world  that  it  was  highly 
significant ;  for  she  cried  out  nervously, 
"Why  are  you  looking  at  me  like  that? 
What's  the  matter  ?  " 


THE  CURATE  OF  POL  TONS  305 

Newhaven,  still  saying"  nothing-,  turned  his 
back  on  her  and  made  as  if  he  would  walk 
into  the  house  and  leave  her  there,  ignored, 
discarded,  done  with.  She,  realizing  the 
crisis  which  had  come,  forgetting  everything 
except  the  imminent  danger  of  losing  him 
once  for  all,  without  time  for  long  explana- 
tion or  any  round  -  about  seductions,  ran 
forward,  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm  and 
blurting  out, 

"  But  I've  refused  him." 

I  do  not  know  what  Newhaven  thinks  now, 
but  I  sometimes  doubt  whether  he  would 
not  have  been  wiser  to  shake  off  the  detain- 
ing hand  and  pursue  his  lonely  way,  first 
into  the  house,  and  ultimately  to  his  aunt's. 
But  (to  say  nothing  of  the  twenty  thousand 
a  year,  which,  after  all,  and  be  you  as  roman- 
tic as  you  may  please  to  be,  is  not  a  thing  to 
be  sneezed  at)  Trix's  face,  its  mingled  eager- 
ness and  shame,  its  flushed  cheeks  and  shin- 
ing eyes,  the  piquancy  of  its  unwonted  hu- 
mility, overcame  him.     He  stopped  dead. 

"  I — I  was  obliged  to  give  him  an — an  op- 
portunity," said  Miss  Trix,  having  the  grace 
to  stumble  a  little  in  her  speech.     "  And — 

and  it's  all  your  fault." 
20 


306  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

The  war  was  thus,  by  happy  audacity, 
carried  into  Newhaven's  own  quarters. 

"  My  fault ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  My  fault 
that  you  walk  all  day  with  that  curate  !  " 

Then  Miss  Trix — and  let  no  irrelevant 
considerations  mar  the  appreciation  of  line 
acting-  —  dropped  her  eyes  and  murmured 
softly, 

"  I — I  was  so  terribly  afraid  of  seeming-  to 
expect  you." 

Wherewith  she  (and  not  he)  ran  away, 
lightly,  up  the  stairs,  turning  just  one  glance 
downwards  as  she  reached  the  landing. 
Newhaven  was  looking  up  from  below  with 
an  "enchanted"  smile — the  word  is  Trix's 
own  :  I  should  probably  have  used  a  differ- 
ent one. 

Was  then  the  curate  of  Poltons  utterly  de- 
feated— brought  to  his  knees,  only  to  be 
spurned  ?  It  seemed  so  :  and  he  came  down 
to  dinner  that  night  with  a  subdued  and 
melancholy  expression.  Trix,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  brilliant  and  talkative  to  the  last 
degree,  and  the  gayety  spread  from  her  all 
round  the  table,  leaving  untouched  only  the 
rejected  lover  and  Mrs.  Wentworth  ;  for  the 
last-named  lady,  true  to  her  distinguishing 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  307 

quality,  had  begun  to  talk  to  poor  Jack  Ives 
in  low  soothing  tones. 

After  dinner  Trix  was  not  visible  ;  but  the 
door  of  the  little  boudoir  beyond  stood  half- 
open,  and  very  soon  Newhaven  edged  his 
way  through.  Almost  at  the  same  moment 
Jack  Ives  and  Mrs.  Wentworth  passed  out 
of  the  window  and  began  to  walk  up  and 
down  the  gravel.  Nobody  but  myself  ap- 
peared to  notice  these  remarkable  occur- 
rences, but  I  watched  them  with  keen  inter- 
est. Half  an  hour  passed  and  then  there 
smote  on  my  watchful  ear  the  sound  of  a 
low  laugh  from  the  boudoir.  It  was  fol- 
lowed almost  immediately  by  a  stranger 
sound  from  the  gravel  walk.  Then,  all  in  a 
moment,  two  things  happened.  The  bou- 
doir door  opened,  and  Trix,  followed  by 
Newhaven,  came  in  smiling  ;  from  the  win- 
dow entered  Jack  Ives  and  Mrs.  Wentworth. 
My  eyes  were  on  the  curate.  He  gave  one 
sudden  comprehending  glance  towards  the 
other  couple  ;  then  he  took  the  widow's 
hand,  led  her  up  to  Dora,  and  said,  in  low 
yet  penetrating  tones, 

"  Will  you  wish  us  joy,  Mrs.  Polton  ?  " 
The  Squire,  Rippleby,  and  Algy  Stanton 


308  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

were  round  them  in  an  instant.  I  kept  my 
place,  watching-  now  the  face  of  Trix  Queen- 
borough.  She  turned  first  flaming  red,  then 
very  pale.  I  saw  her  turn  to  Newhaven 
and  speak  one  or  two  urgent  imperative 
words  to  him.  Then,  drawing  herself  up 
to  her  full  height,  she  crossed  the  room  to 
where  the  group  was  assembled  round  Mrs. 
Wentworth  and  Jack  Ives. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  What  are  you  say- 
ing ?  "  she  asked. 

Mrs.  Wentworth's  eyes  were  modestly 
cast  down,  but  a  smile  played  round  her 
mouth.  No  one  spoke  for  a  moment.  Then 
Jack  Ives  said, 

"  Mrs.  Wentworth  has  promised  to  be  my 
wife,  Miss  Queenborough." 

For  a  moment,  hardly  perceptible,  Trix 
hesitated ;  then,  with  the  most  winning, 
touching,  sweetest  smile  in  the  world,  she 
said, 

"  So  you  took  my  advice,  and  our  after- 
noon walk  was  not  wasted  after  all !  " 

Mrs.  Polton  is  not  used  to  these  fine 
flights  of  diplomacy  ;  she  had  heard  before 
dinner  something  of  what  had  actually  hap- 
pened in  the    afternoon ;  and   the   simple 


THE  CURATE  OF  POLTONS  309 

woman  positively  jumped.  Jack  Ives  met 
Trix's  scornful  e}*es  full  and  square. 

"  Not  at  all  wasted,"  said  lie  with  a  smile. 
"  Not  only  has  it  shown  me  where  my  true 
happiness  lies,  but  it  has  also  given  me  a 
juster  idea  of  the  value  and  sincerity  of  your 
regard  for  me,  Miss  Queenborough." 

"  It  is  as  real,  Mr.  Ives,  as  it  is  sincere," 
said  she. 

"  It  is  like  yourself,  Miss  Queenborough," 
said  he,  with  a  little  bow ;  and  he  turned 
from  her  and  began  to  talk  to  his  fiancee. 

Trix  Queenborough  moved  slowly  towards 
where  I  sat.  Newhaven  was  watching  her 
from  where  he  stood  alone  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room. 

"  And  have  you  no  news  for  us  ?  "  I  asked 
in  low  tones. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  haughtily;  "I 
don't  care  that  mine  should  be  a  pendant  to 
the  great  tidings  about  the  little  widow  and 
the  curate." 

After  a  moment's  pause  she  went  on  : 

"  He  lost  no  time,  did  he  ?  He  was  wise 
to  secure  her  before  what  happened  this 
afternoon  could  leak  out.  Nobody  can  tell 
her  now." 


310  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  This  afternoon  ?  " 

"  He  asked  me  to  marry  him  this  after- 
noon." 

"  And  you  refused  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  his  behavior  is  in  outrageously 
bad  taste,  but " 

She  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm,  and  said  in 
calm  level  tones, 

"  I  refused  him  because  I  dared  not  have 
him  ;  but  I  told  him  I  cared  for  him,  and  he 
said  he  loved  me.  And  I  let  him  kiss  me. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Wynne." 

I  sat  still  and  silent.  Newhaven  came 
across  to  us.  Trix  put  out  her  hand  and 
caught  him  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Fred,"  she  said,  "  my  dear  honest  old 
Fred,  you  love  me,  don't  you  ?  " 

Newhaven,  much  embarrassed  and  sur- 
prised, looked  at  me  in  alarm.  But  her  hand 
was  in  his  now,  and  her  eyes  imploring 
him. 

"I  should  rather  think  I  did,  my  dear," 
said  he. 

I  really  hope  that  Lord  and  Lady  New- 
haven will  not  be  very  unhappy,  while  Mrs. 
Ives  quite  worships    her  husband,  and  is 


THE  CURATE  OF  P0LT0N8  311 

convinced  that  she  eclipsed  the  brilliant  and 
wealthy  Miss  Queenborough.  Perhaps  she 
did  —  perhaps  not.  There  are,  as  I  have 
said,  great  qualities  in  the  curate  of  Poltons, 
but  I  have  not  quite  made  up  my  mind 
precisely  what  they  are.  I  ought,  however, 
to  say  that  Dora  takes  a  more  favorable 
view  of  him  and  a  less  lenient  view  of  Trix 
than  I.  That  is  perhaps  natural.  Besides, 
Dora  does  not  know  the  precise  manner  in 
which  the  curate  was  refused.  By  the  way, 
he  preached  next  Sunday  on  the  text,  "  The 
children  of  this  world  are  wiser  in  their  gen- 
eration than  the  children  of  light." 


A  THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL 


A  THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL 

IT  was,  I  believe,  mainly  as  a  compliment 
to  me  that  Miss  Audrey  Liston  was 
asked  to  Poltons.  Miss  Liston  and  I  were 
very  good  friends,  and  my  cousin  Dora  Pol- 
ton  thought,  as  she  informed  me,  that  it 
would  be  nice  for  me  to  have  some  one  I 
could  talk  to  about  "  books  and  so  on."  I 
did  not  complain.  Miss  Liston  was  a  pleas- 
ant young  woman  of  six  -  and  -  twenty  ;  I 
liked  her  very  much  except  on  paper,  and  I 
was  aware  that  she  made  it  a  point  of  duty 
to  read  something  at  least  of  what  I  wrote. 
She  was  in  the  habit  of  describing  herself 
as  an  "  authoress  in  a  small  way."  If  it  were 
pointed  out  that  six  three-volume  novels  in 
three  years  (the  term  of  her  literary  activity 
at  the  time  of  which  I  write)  could  hardly 
be  called  "  a  small  way."  she  would  smile 
modestly  and  say  that  it  was  not  really 
much  ;  and  if  she  were  told  that  the  English 


316  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

language  embraced  no  such  word  as  "au- 
thoress," she  would  smile  again  and  say  that 
it  ought  to,  a  position  towards  the  bug- 
bear of  correctness  with  which,  I  confess,  I 
sympathize  in  some  degree.  She  was  very 
diligent ;  she  worked  from  ten  to  one  every 
day  while  she  was  at  Poltons ;  how  much 
she  wrote  is  between  her  and  her  con- 
science. 

There  was  another  impeachment  which 
Miss  Liston  was  hardly  at  the  trouble  to 
deny.  "  Take  my  characters  from  life !  " 
she  would  exclaim.  "  Surely  every  artist 
(Miss  Liston  often  referred  to  herself  as  an 
artist)  must ! "  And  she  would  proceed  to 
maintain — what  is  perhaps  true  sometimes 
— that  people  rather  liked  being  put  into 
books,  just  as  they  liked  being  photo- 
graphed, for  all  that  they  grumble  and  pre- 
tend to  be  afflicted  when  either  process  is 
levied  against  them.  In  discussing  this 
matter  with  Miss  Liston  I  felt  myself  on 
delicate  ground,  for  it  was  notorious  that  I 
figured  in  her  first  book  in  the  guise  of  a 
misogynistic  genius ;  the  fact  that  she 
lengthened  (and  thickened)  my  hair,  con- 
verted it  from  an  indeterminate  brown  to  a 


A    THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  317 

dusky  black,  gave  me  a  drooping  mustache, 
and  invested  my  very  ordinary  work-a-day 
eyes  with  a  strange  magnetic  attraction, 
availed  nothing ;  I  was  at  once  recognized, 
and,  I  may  remark  in  passing,  an  uncom- 
monly disagreeable  fellow  she  made  me. 
Thus  I  had  passed  through  the  fire.  I  felt 
tolerably  sure  that  I  presented  no  other  as- 
pect of  interest,  real  or  supposed,  and  I  was 
quite  content  that  Miss  Liston  should  serve 
all  the  rest  of  her  acquaintance  as  she  had 
served  me.  I  reckoned  they  would  last  her, 
at  the  present  rate  of  production,  about  five 
years. 

Fate  was  kind  to  Miss  Liston,  and  pro- 
vided her  with  most  suitable  patterns  for 
her  next  piece  of  work  at  Poltons  itself. 
There  were  a  young  man  and  a  young  wom- 
an staying  in  the  house — Sir  Gilbert  Chil- 
lington  and  Miss  Pamela  Myles.  The  mo- 
ment Miss  Liston  was  appraised  of  a  possi- 
ble romance,  she  began  the  study  of  the 
protagonists.  She  was  looking  out,  she 
told  me,  for  some  new  types  (if  it  were  any 
consolation — and  there  is  a  sort  of  dignity 
about  it — to  be  called  a  type,  Miss  Liston's 
victims  were  always  welcome  to  so  much), 


318  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

and  she  had  found  them  in  Chilling-ton  and 
Pamela.  The  former  appeared  to  my  dull 
eye  to  offer  no  salient  novelty  ;  he  was  tall, 
broad,  handsome,  and  he  possessed  a  man- 
ner of  enviable  placidity.  Pamela,  I  al- 
lowed, was  exactly  the  heroine  Miss  Liston 
loved  —  haughty,  capricious,  difficile,  but 
sound  and  true  at  heart  (I  was  mentally 
skimming  Yolume  I.).  Miss  Liston  agreed 
with  me  in  my  conception  of  Pamela,  but 
declared  that  I  did  not  do  justice  to  the 
artistic  possibilities  latent  in  Chillington ; 
he  had  a  curious  attraction  which  it  would 
tax  her  skill  (so  she  gravely  informed  me)  to 
the  utmost  to  reproduce.  She  proposed 
that  I  also  should  make  a  study  of  him,  and 
attributed  my  hurried  refusal  to  a  shrinking 
from  the  difficulties  of  the  task. 

"  Of  course,"  she  observed,  looking  at  our 
young  friends  who  were  talking  nonsense  at 
the  other  side  of  the  lawn,  "  they  must  have 
a  misunderstanding." 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  I,  lighting  my  pipe. 
"  "What  should  you  say  to  another  man?  " 

"  Or  another  woman  ?  "  said  Miss  Liston. 

"It  comes  to  the  same  thing,"  said  I. 
(About  a  volume  and  a  half  I  meant.) 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  319 

"  But  it's  more  interesting.  Do  you  think 
she'd  better  be  a  married  woman  ?  "  And 
Miss  Liston  looked  at  me  inquiringly. 

"  The  age  prefers  them  married,"  I  re- 
marked. 

This  conversation  happened  on  the  sec- 
ond day  of  Miss  Liston's  visit,  and  she  lost 
no  time  in  beginning  to  study  her  subjects. 
Pamela,  she  said,  she  found  pretty  plain 
sailing,  but  Chillington  continued  to  puzzle 
her.  Again,  she  could  not  make  up  her 
mind  whether  to  have  a  happy  or  a  tragic 
ending.  In  the  interests  of  a  tender-hearted 
public,  I  pleaded  for  marriage-bells. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so,"  said  Miss  Liston,  but 
she  sighed,  and  I  think  she  had  an  idea  or 
two  for  a  heart-broken  separation,  followed 
by  mutual,  life-long,  hopeless  devotion. 

The  complexity  of  young  Sir  Gilbert  did 
not,  in  Miss  Liston's  opinion,  appear  less 
on  further  acquaintance ;  and  indeed,  I 
must  admit  that  she  was  not  altogether 
wrong  in  considering  him  worthy  of  atten- 
tion. As  I  came  to  know  him  better,  I  dis- 
cerned in  him  a  smothered  self-apprecia- 
tion, which  came  to  light  in  response  to  the 
least  tribute  of  interest  or  admiration,  but 


320  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

was  yet  far  remote  from  the  aggressiveness 
of  a  commonplace  vanity.  In  a  moment  of 
indiscretion  I  had  chaffed  him — he  was  very 
good-natured — on  the  risks  he  ran  at  Miss 
Liston's  hands  ;  he  was  not  disgusted,  but 
neither  did  he  plume  himself  or  spread  his 
feathers.  He  received  the  suggestions  with- 
out surprise,  and  without  any  attempt  at 
disclaiming  fitness  for  the  purpose  ;  but  he 
received  it  as  a  matter  which  entailed  a  re- 
sponsibility on  him.  I  detected  the  con- 
viction that,  if  the  portrait  was  to  be 
painted,  it  was  due  to  the  world  that  it 
should  be  well  painted  ;  the  subject  must 
give  the  artist  full  opportunities. 

"What  does  she  know  about  me?"  he 
asked,  in  meditative  tones. 

"  She's  very  quick ;  she'll  soon  pick  up  as 
much  as  she  wants,"  I  assured  him. 

"  She'll  probably  go  all  wrong,"  he  said, 
sombrely ;  and  of  course  I  could  not  tell 
him  that  it  was  of  no  consequence  if  she 
did.  He  would  not  have  believed  me,  and 
would  have  done  precisely  what  he  pro- 
ceeded to  do,  and  that  was  to  afford  Miss 
Liston  every  chance  of  appraising  his  char- 
acter and  plumbing  the  depths  of  his  soul. 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  321 

I  may  say  at  once  tliat  I  did  not  regret  this 
course  of  action ;  for  the  effect  of  it  was 
to  allow  me  a  chance  of  talking  to  Pamela 
Myles,  and  Pamela  was  exactly  the  sort  of 
a  girl  to  beguile  the  long  pleasant  morning 
hours  of  a  holiday  in  the  country.  No  one 
had  told  Pamela  that  she  was  going  to  be 
put  in  a  book,  and  I  don't  think  it  would 
have  made  any  difference  had  she  been  told. 
Pamela's  attitude  towards  books  was  one 
of  healthy  scorn,  confidently  based  on  ad- 
mitted ignorance.  So  we  never  spoke  of 
them,  and  my  cousin  Dora  condoled  with  me 
more  than  once  on  the  way  in  which  Miss 
Liston,  false  to  the  implied  terms  of  her 
invitation,  deserted  me  in  favor  of  Sir  Gil- 
bert, and  left  me  to  the  mercies  of  a  frivo- 
lous girl.  Pamela  appeared  to  be  as  little 
aggrieved  as  I  was.  I  imagined  that  she 
supposed  that  Chillington  would  ask  her  to 
marry  him  some  day  before  very  long,  and 
I  was  sure  she  would  accept  him ;  but  it 
was  quite  plain  that,  if  Miss  Liston  per- 
sisted in  making  Pamela  her  heroine,  she 
would  have  to  supply  from  her  own  re- 
sources  a    large    supplement    of    passion. 

Pamela  was  far  too  deficient  in  the  commod- 
21 


322  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

ity  to  be  made  anything  of,  without  such 
reinforcement,  even  by  an  art  more  adept  at 
making  much  out  of  nothing  than  Miss 
Liston's  straightforward  method  could  claim 
to  be. 

A  week  passed,  and  then,  one  Friday 
morning,  a  new  light  burst  on  me.  Miss 
Liston  came  into  the  garden  at  eleven 
o'clock  and  sat  down  by  me  on  the  lawn. 
Chillington  and  Pamela  had  gone  riding 
with  the  squire,  Dora  was  visiting  the  poor. 
We  were  alone.  The  appearance  of  Miss 
Liston  at  this  hour  (usually  sacred  to  the 
use  of  the  pen),  no  less  than  her  puzzled 
look,  told  me  that  an  obstruction  had  oc- 
curred in  the  novel.  Presently  she  let  me 
know  what  it  was. 

"  I'm  thinking  of  altering  the  scheme  of 
my  story,  Mr.  Wynne,"  said  she.  "Have 
you  ever  noticed  how  sometimes  a  man 
thinks  he's  in  love  when  he  isn't  really  ?  " 

"  Such  a  case  sometimes  occurs,"  I  ac- 
knowledged. 

"Yes,  and  he  doesn't  find  out  his  mis- 
take  " 

"  Till  they're  married  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,    yes,"    she    said,  rather    as 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  323 

though  she  were  making  an  unwilling  ad- 
mission. "  But  sometimes  he  sees  it  before 
— when  he  meets  somebody  else." 

"  Very  true,"  said  I,  with  a  grave  nod. 

"  The  false  can't  stand  against  the  real,'* 
pursued  Miss  Liston  ;  and  then  she  fell  into 
meditative  silence.  I  stole  a  glance  at  her 
face ;  she  was  smiling.  Was  it  in  the  pleas- 
ure of  literary  creation — an  artistic  ecstasy  ? 
I  should  have  liked  to  answer  yes,  but  I 
doubted  it  very  much.  Without  pretending 
to  Miss  Liston's  powers,  I  have  the  little 
subtlety  that  is  needful  to  show  me  that 
more  than  one  kind  of  smile  may  be  seen  on 
the  human  face,  and  that  there  is  one  very 
different  from  others ;  and  finally,  that  that 
one  is  not  evoked,  as  a  rule,  merely  by  the 
evolution  of  the  troublesome  encumbrance 
in  pretty  writing,  vulgarly  called  a  "  plot." 

"  If,"  pursued  Miss  Liston,  "  some  one 
comes  who  can  appreciate  him  and  draw 
out  what  is  best  in  him ■" 

"  That's  all  very  well,"  said  I,  "  but  what 
of  the  first  girl  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she's — she  can  be  made  shallow,  you 
know ;  and  I  can  put  in  a  man  for  her. 
People  needn't  be  much  interested  in  her." 


324  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Yes,  you  could  manage  it  that  way," 
said  I,  thinking-  how  Pamela — I  took  the 
liberty  of  using  her  name  for  the  shallow 
girl — would  like  such  treatment. 

"  She  will  really  be  valuable  mainly  as  a 
foil,"  observed  Miss  Liston  ;  and  she  added 
generously,  "  I  shall  make  her  nice,  you 
know,  but  shallow — not  worthy  of  him." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  make  the 
other  girl  like  ?  "  I  asked. 

Miss  Liston  started  slightly ;  also  she 
colored  very  slightly,  and  she  answered, 
looking  away  from  me  across  the  lawn, 

"  I  haven't  quite  made  up  my  mind  yet, 
Mr.  Wynne." 

With  the  suspicion  which  this  conversa- 
tion aroused  fresh  in  my  mind,  it  was 
curious  to  hear  Pamela  laugh,  as  she  said 
to  me  on  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day, 

"Aren't  Sir  Gilbert  and  Audrey  Liston 
funny  ?  I  tell  you  what,  Mr.  Wynne,  I  be- 
lieve they're  writing  a  novel  together." 

"  Perhaps  Chillington's  giving  her  the 
materials  for  one,"  I  suggested. 

"  I  shouldn't  think,"  observed  Pamela,  in 
her  dispassionate  way,  "  that  anything  very 
interesting  had  ever  happened  to  him." 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  325 

"I  thought  you  liked  hiro,"  I  remarked, 
humbly. 

"  So  I  do.  "What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  " 
asked  Pamela. 

It  was  beyond  question  that  Chillington 
enjoyed  Miss  Liston's  society  ;  the  interest 
she  showed  in  him  was  incense  to  his  nos- 
trils. I  used  to  overhear  fragments  of  his 
ideas  about  himself,  which  he  was  revealing 
in  answer  to  her  tactful  inquiries.  But 
neither  was  it  doubtful  that  he  had  by  no 
means  lost  his  relish  for  Pamela's  lighter 
talk  ;  in  fact,  he  seemed  to  turn  to  her  with 
some  relief — perhaps  it  is  refreshing  to  es- 
cape from  self-analysis,  even  when  the  proc- 
ess is  conducted  in  the  pleasantest  possible 
manner — and  the  hours  which  Miss  Liston 
gave  to  work  were  devoted  by  Chillington 
to  maintaining  his  cordial  relations  with  the 
lady  whose  comfortable  and  not  over-tragi- 
cal disposal  was  taxing  Miss  Liston's  skill. 
For  she  had  definitely  decided  all  her  plot ; 
she  told  me  so  a  few  days  later.  It  was  all 
planned  out ;  nay,  the  scene  in  which  the 
truth  as  to  his  own  feelings  bursts  on  Sir 
Gilbert  (I  forget  at  the  moment  what  name 
the    novel    gave  him)   was,   I    understood, 


326  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

actually  written;  the  shallow  girl  was  to 
experience  nothing  worse  than  a  wound  to 
her  vanity,  and  was  to  turn  with  as  much 
alacrity  as  decency  allowed  to  the  substitute 
whom  Miss  Liston  had  now  provided.  All 
this  was  poured  into  my  sympathetic  ear, 
and  I  say  sympathetic  with  all  sincerity  ; 
for,  although  I  may  occasionally  treat  Miss 
Liston's  literary  efforts  with  less  than 
proper  respect,  she  herself  was  my  friend, 
and  the  conviction  under  which  she  was  now 
living  would,  I  knew,  unless  it  were  justified, 
bring  her  into  much  of  that  unhappiness  in 
which  one  generally  found  her  heroine 
plunged  about  the  end  of  Volume  II.  The 
heroine  generally  got  out  all  right,  and  the 
knowledge  that  she  would  enabled  the  reader 
to  preserve  cheerfulness.  But  would  poor 
little  Miss  Liston  get  out  ?  I  was  none  too 
sure  of  it. 

Suddenly  a  change  came  in  the  state  of 
affairs.  Pamela  produced  it.  It  must  have 
struck  her  that  the  increasing  intimacy  of 
Miss  Liston  and  Chillington  might  become 
something  other  than  "  funny."  To  put  it 
briefly  and  metaphorically,  she  whistled  her 
dog  back  to  her  heels.    I  am  not  skilled  in 


A   TIIREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  327 

understanding1  or  describing-  the  artifices  of 
ladies  ;  but  even  I  saw  the  transformation  in 
Pamela.  She  put  forth  her  strength  and 
put  on  her  prettiest  gowns ;  she  refused  to 
take  her  place  in  the  see  -  saw  of  society, 
which  Chillington  had  recently  established 
for  his  pleasure.  If  he  spent  an  hour  with 
Miss  Liston,  Pamela  would  have  nothing  of 
him  for  a  day ;  she  met  his  attentions  with 
scorn  unless  they  were  undivided.  Chilling- 
ton  seemed  at  first  puzzled  ;  I  believe  that 
he  never  regarded  his  talks  with  Miss  Liston 
in  other  than  a  business  point  of  view,  but 
directly  he  understood  that  Pamela  claimed 
him,  and  that  she  was  prepared,  in  case  he 
did  not  obey  her  call,  to  establish  a  griev- 
ance against  him,  he  lost  no  time  in  mani- 
festing his  obedience.  A  whole  day  passed 
in  which,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  he  was 
not  alone  a  moment  with  Miss  Liston,  and 
did  not,  save  at  the  family  meals,  exchange  a 
word  with  her.  As  he  walked  off  with 
Pamela,  Miss  Liston's  eyes  followed  him  in 
wistful  longing ;  she  stole  away  upstairs 
and  did  not  come  down  till  five  o'clock. 
Then  finding  me  strolling  about  with  a  cig- 
arette, she  joined  me. 


328  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Well,  how  goes  the  book  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  I  haven't  done  much  to  it  just  lately," 
she  answered,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I — it's — I 
don't  quite  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  I  thought  you'd  settled  ?  " 

"  So  I  had,  but — oh,  don't  let's  talk  about 
it,  Mr.  Wynne  !  " 

But  a  moment  later  she  went  on  talking 
about  it. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  make  it  end 
happily,"  she  said.  "  I'm  sure  life  isn't  al- 
ways happy,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  I  answered.  "  You  mean 
your  man  might  stick  to  the  shallow  girl 
after  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  just  heard  her  whisper. 

"  And  be  miserable  afterwards  ?  "  I  pur- 
sued. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Liston.  "  Per- 
haps he  wouldn't." 

"  Then  you  must  make  him  shallow  him- 
self." 

"  I  can't  do  that,"  she  said  quickly.  "  Oh, 
how  difficult  it  is  !  " 

She  may  have  meant  merely  the  art  of 
writing — when  I  cordially  agreed  with  her — 
but  I  think  she  meant  also  the  way  of  the 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  329 

world,  which  does  not  make  me  withdraw 
my  assent.  I  left  her  walking*  up  and  down 
in  front  of  the  drawing-room  windows,  a 
rather  forlorn  little  figure,  thrown  into  dis- 
tinctness by  the  cold  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

All  was  not  over  yet.  That  evening  Chil- 
lington  broke  away.  Led  by  vanity,  or  in- 
terest, or  friendliness,  I  know  not  which — 
tired  maybe  of  paying  court  (the  attitude  in 
which  Pamela  kept  him),  and  thinking  it 
would  be  pleasant  to  play  the  other  part  for 
a  while  —  after  dinner  he  went  straight  to 
Miss  Liston,  talked  to  her  while  we  had  cof- 
fee on  the  terrace,  and  then  walked  about 
with  her.  Pamela  sat  by  me  ;  she  was  very 
silent ;  she  did  not  appear  to  be  angry,  but 
her  handsome  mouth  wore  a  resolute  expres- 
sion. Chillington  and  Miss  Liston  wan- 
dered on  into  the  shrubbery,  and  did  not 
come  into  sight  again  for  nearly  half  an 
hour. 

"I  think  it's  cold,"  said  Pamela,  in  her 
cool,  quiet  tones.  "And  it's  also,  Mr. 
Wynne,  rather  slow.     I  shall  go  to  bed." 

I  thought  it  a  little  impertinent  of  Pamela 
to  attribute  the  "  slowness  "  (which  had  un- 
doubtedly existed)  to  me,  so  I  took  my  re- 


330  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

venge  by  saying,  with  an  assumption  of  in- 
nocence purposely  and  obviously  unreal, 

"  Oh,  but  won't  you  wait  and  bid  Miss 
Liston  and  Chillington  good-night  ?  " 

Pamela  looked  at  me  for  a  moment.  I 
made  bold  to  smile. 

Pamela's  face  broke  slowly  into  an  an- 
swering smile. 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Mr. 
Wynne,"  said  she. 

"  No  ?  "  said  I. 

"  No,"  said  Pamela,  and  she  turned  away. 
But  before  she  went  she  looked  over  her 
shoulder,  and,  still  smiling,  said,  "  Wish 
Miss  Liston  good-night  for  me,  Mr.  Wynne. 
Anything  I  have  to  say  to  Sir  Gilbert  will 
wait  very  well  till  to-morrow." 

She  had  hardly  gone  in  when  the  wander- 
ers came  out  of  the  shrubbery  and  rejoined 
me.  Chillington  wore  his  usual  passive 
look,  but  Miss  Liston's  face  was  happy  and 
radiant.  Chillington  passed  on  into  the 
drawing-room.  Miss  Liston  lingered  a  mo- 
ment by  me. 

"  Why,  you  look,"  said  I,  "  as  if  you'd  in- 
vented the  finest  scene  ever  written." 

She    did    not    answer    me    directly,    but 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  331 

stood  looking-  up  at  the  stars.  Then  she 
said  in  a  dreamy  tone, 

"  I  think  I  shall  stick  to  my  old  idea  in 
the  book." 

As  she  spoke  Chilling-ton  came  out.  Even 
in  the  dim  light  I  saw  a  frown  on  his  face. 

"  I  say,  Wynne,"  said  he,  "  where's  Miss 
Myles  ?  " 

"  She's  gone  to  bed,"  I  answered.  "  She 
told  me  to  wish  you  good -night  for  her, 
Miss  Liston.  No  message  for  you,  Chil- 
lington." 

Miss  Liston's  eyes  were  on  him.  He 
took  no  notice  of  her  ;  he  stood  frowning  for 
an  instant,  then,  with  some  muttered  ejacu- 
lation, he  strode  back  into  the  house.  We 
heard  his  heavy  tread  across  the  drawing- 
room  ;  we  heard  the  door  slammed  behind 
him,  and  I  found  myself  looking  on  Miss 
Liston's  altered  face. 

"  What  does  he  want  her  for,  I  wonder  ?  " 
she  said,  in  an  agitation  that  made  my  pres- 
ence, my  thoughts,  my  suspicions,  nothing 
to  her.  "  He  said  nothing  to  me  about  want- 
ing to  speak  to  her  to-night."  And  she 
walked  slowly  into  the  house,  her  eyes  on  the 
ground,  and  all  the  light  gone  from  her  face 


332  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

and  the  joy  dead  in  it.  Whereupon  I,  left 
alone,  began  to  rail  at  the  gods  that  a  dear, 
silly  little  soul  like  Miss  Liston  should 
bother  her  poor,  silly  little  head  about  a 
hulking  fool ;  in  which  reflections  I  did,  of 
course,  immense  injustice  not  only  to  an 
eminent  author,  but  also  to  a  perfectly  hon- 
orable, though  somewhat  dense  and  de- 
cidedly conceited,  gentleman. 

The  next  morning  Sir  Gilbert  Chillington 
ate  dirt — there  is  no  other  way  of  expressing 
it — in  great  quantities  and  with  infinite  hu- 
mility. My  admirable  friend  Miss  Pamela 
was  severe.  I  saw  him  walk  six  yards  be- 
hind her  for  the  length  of  the  terrace ;  not  a 
look  nor  a  turn  of  her  head  gave  him  leave 
to  join  her.  Miss  Liston  had  gone  upstairs, 
and  I  watched  the  scene  from  the  window  of 
the  smoking-room.  At  last,  at  the  end  of 
the  long  walk,  just  where  the  laurel-bushes 
mark  the  beginning  of  the  shrubberies — on 
the  threshold  of  the  scene  of  his  crime — 
Pamela  turned  round  suddenly  and  faced 
the  repentant  sinner.  The  most  interesting 
things  in  life  are  those  which,  perhaps  by 
the  inevitable  nature  of  the  case,  one  does 
not  hear  ;  and  I  did  not  hear  the  scene  which 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  333 

followed.  For  a  while  they  stood  talking — ■ 
rather,  he  talked  and  she  listened.  Then  she 
turned  again  and  walked  slowly  into  the 
shrubbery.  Chillington  followed.  It  was 
the  end  of  a  chapter,  and  I  laid  down  the 
book. 

How  and  from  whom  Miss  Liston  heard 
the  news,  which  Chillington  himself  told  me 
without  a  glimmer  of  shame  or  a  touch  of 
embarrassment  some  two  hours  later,  I  do 
not  know ;  but  hear  it  she  did  before 
luncheon ;  for  she  came  down,  ready  armed 
with  the  neatest  little  speeches  for  both  the 
happy  lovers.  I  did  not  expect  Pamela  to 
show  an  ounce  more  feeling  than  the  strict- 
est canons  of  propriety  demanded,  and  she 
fulfilled  my  expectations  to  the  letter  ;  but  I 
had  hoped,  I  confess,  that  Chillington  would 
have  displayed  some  little  consciousness. 
He  did  not ;  and  it  is  my  belief  that, 
throughout  the  events  which  I  have  re- 
corded, he  retained,  and  that  he  still  retains, 
the  conviction  that  Miss  Liston's  interest  in 
him  was  purely  literary  and  artistic,  and 
that  she  devoted  herself  to  his  society  simply 
because  he  offered  an  interesting  problem 
and    an    inspiring    theme.      An    ingenious 


334  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

charity  may  find  in  that  attitude  evidence  of 
modesty ;  to  my  thinking  it  argues  a  more 
subtle  and  magnificent  conceit  than  if  he  had 
fathomed  the  truth,  as  many  humbler  men 
in  his  place  would  have  done. 

On  the  day  after  the  engagement  was  ac- 
complished Miss  Liston  left  us  to  return  to 
London.  She  came  out  in  her  hat  and 
jacket  and  sat  down  by  me  ;  the  carriage 
was  to  be  round  in  ten  minutes.  She  put 
on  her  gloves  slowly  and  buttoned  them 
carefully.     This  done,  she  said, 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Wynne,  I've  adopted 
your  suggestion.    The  man  doesn't  find  out." 

"  Then  you've  made  him  a  fool  ?  "  I  asked 
bluntly. 

"No,"  she  answered.  "I — I  think  it 
might  happen  though  he  wasn't  a  fool." 

She  sat  with  her  hands  in  her  lap  for  a 
moment  or  two,  then  she  went  on  in  a  lower 
voice, 

"I'm  going  to  make  him  find  out  after- 
wards." 

I  felt  her  glance  on  me,  but  I  looked 
straight  in  front  of  me. 

"What!  after  he's  married  the  shallow 
girl  ?  " 


A   THREE-VOLUME  NOVEL  335 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Liston. 

"Rather  too  late,  isn't  it?  At  least  if 
yon  mean  there  is  to  be  a  happy  ending." 

Miss  Liston  enlaced  her  fingers. 

"  I  haven't  decided  about  the  ending  yet," 
said  she. 

"  If  you're  intent  is  to  be  tragical — which 
is  the  fashion  —  you'll  do  as  you  stand," 
said  I. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  slowly,  "  if  I'm  tragi- 
cal I  shall  do  as  I  stand." 

There  was  another  pause,  and  rather  a  long 
one ;  the  wheels  of  the  carriage  were  audible 
on  the  gravel  of  the  front  drive.  Miss  Lis- 
ton stood  up.     I  rose  and  held  out  my  hand. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Liston,  still  intent 
on  her  novel,  "I  could — "  She  stopped 
again,  and  looked  apprehensively  at  me. 
My  face,  I  believe,  expressed  nothing  more 
than  polite  attention  and  friendly  interest. 

"  Of  course,"  she  began  again,  "the  shal- 
low girl — his  wife — might — might  die,  Mr. 
Wynne." 

"  In  novels,"  said  I,  with  a  smile,  "  while 
there's  death  there's  hope." 

"  Yes,  in  novels,"  she  answered,  giving  me 
her  hand. 


33G  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

The  poor  little  woman  was  very  unhappy. 
Unwisely,  I  dare  say,  I  pressed  her  hand. 
It  was  enough  ;  the  tears  leapt  to  her  eyes  ; 
she  gave  my  great  fist  a  hurried  squeeze.  I 
have  seldom  been  more  touched  by  any 
thanks,  however  warm  or  eloquent,  and 
hurried  away. 

I  have  read  the  novel.  It  came  out  a  lit- 
tle while  ago.  The  man  finds  out  after  the 
marriage  ;  the  shallow  girl  dies  unregretted 
(she  turns  out  as  badly  as  possible) ;  the  real 
love  comes,  and  all  ends  joyfully.  It  is  a 
simple  story,  prettily  told  in  its  little  way, 
and  the  scene  of  the  reunion  is  written  with 
genuine  feeling — nay,  with  a  touch  of  real 
passion.  But  then  Sir  Gilbert  Chillington 
never  meets  Miss  Liston  now.  And  Lady 
Chillington  not  only  behaves  with  her  cus- 
tomary propriety,  but  is  in  the  enjoyment 
of  most  excellent  health  and  spirits. 

True  art  demands  an  adaptation,  not  a 
copy,  of  life.  I  saw  that  remark  somewhere 
the  other  day.  It  seems  correct,  if  Miss 
Liston  be  any  authority. 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  IN  THE 
APPLE  ORCHARD 


22 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  IN   THE 
APPLE  ORCHARD 

IT  was  a  charmingly  mild  and  balmy  day. 
The  sun  shone  beyond  the  orchard,  and 
the  shade  was  cool  inside.  A  light  breeze 
stirred  the  boughs  of  the  old  apple  tree 
under  which  the  philosopher  sat.  None  of 
these  things  did  the  philosopher  notice,  un- 
less it  might  be  when  the  wind  blew  about 
the  leaves  of  the  large  volume  on  his  knees, 
and  he  had  to  find  his  place  again.  Then 
he  would  exclaim  against  the  wind,  shuffle 
the  leaves  till  he  got  the  right  page,  and 
settle  to  his  reading.  The  book  was  a  trea- 
tise on  ontology  ;  it  was  written  by  another 
philosopher,  a  friend  of  this  philosopher's ; 
it  bristled  with  fallacies,  and  this  philos- 
opher was  discovering  them  all,  and  noting 
them  on  the  fly-leaf  at  the  end.  He  was  not 
going  to  review  the  book  (as  some  might 


340  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

have  thought  from  his  behavior),  or  even  to 
answer  it  in  a  work  of  his  own.  It  was  just 
that  he  found  a  pleasure  in  stripping  any 
poor  fallacy  naked  and  crucifying-  it. 

Presently  a  girl  in  a  white  frock  came 
into  the  orchard.  She  picked  up  an  apple, 
bit  it,  and  found  it  ripe.  Holding  it  in  her 
hand  she  walked  up  to  where  the  philos- 
opher sat,  and  looked  at  him.  He  did  not 
stir.  She  took  a  bite  out  of  the  apple, 
munched  it,  and  swallowed  it.  The  philos- 
opher crucified  a  fallacy  on  the  fly-leaf. 
The  girl  flung  the  apple  away. 

"  Mr.  Jerningham,"  said  she,  "  are  you 
very  busy  ?  " 

The  philosopher,  pencil  in  hand,  looked 
up. 

"  No,  Miss  May,"  said  he,  "  not  very." 

"  Because  I  want  your  opinion." 

"  In  one  moment,"  said  the  philosopher 
apologetically. 

He  turned  back  to  the  fly-leaf  and  began 
to  nail  the  last  fallacy  a  little  tighter  to  the 
cross.  The  girl  regarded  him,  first  with 
amused  impatience,  then  with  a  vexed  frown, 
finally  with  a  wistful  regret.  He  was  so 
very  old  for  his  age,  she  thought ;  he  could 


THE  PHILOSOPIIER  341 

not  be  much  beyond  thirty ;  his  hair  was 
thick  and  full  of  waves,  his  eyes  bright  and 
clear,  his  complexion  not  yet  divested  of  all 
youth's  relics. 

"Now,  Miss  May,  I'm  at  your  service," 
3aid  the  philosopher  with  a  lingering  look 
at  his  impaled  fallacy.  And  he  closed  the 
book,  keeping  it,  however,  on  his  knee. 

The  girl  sat  down  just  opposite  to  him. 
"  It's  a  very  important  thing  I  want  to  ask 
you,"  she  began,  tugging  at  a  tuft  of  grass, 
"  and  it's  very — difficult,  and  you  mustn't  tell 
any  one  I  asked  you  ;  at  least,  I'd  rather  you 
didn't." 

"  I  shall  not  speak  of  it ;  indeed,  I  shall 
probably  not  remember  it,"  said  the  philos- 
opher. 

"  And  you  mustn't  look  at  me,  please, 
while  I'm  asking  you." 

"  I  don't  think  I  was  looking  at  you,  but 
if  I  was  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  philos- 
opher apologetically. 

She  pulled  the  tuft  of  grass  right  out  of 
the  ground  and  flung  it  from  her  with  all 
her  force. 

"  Suppose  a  man -*'  she  began.     "  No, 

that's  not  right." 


342  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  You  can  take  any  hypothesis  you 
please,"  observed  the  philosopher,  "  but  you 
must  verify  it  afterwards,  of  course." 

"  Oh,  do  let  me  go  on.  Suppose  a  girl, 
Mr.  Jerningham  —  I  wish  you  wouldn't 
nod." 

"  It  was  only  to   show  that   I   followed 

you." 

"  Oh,  of  course  you  '  follow  me,'  as  you 
call  it.  Suppose  a  girl  had  two  lovers — 
you're  nodding  again  ! — or,  I  ought  to  say, 
suppose  there  were  two  men  who  might  be 
in  love  with  a  girl." 

"  Only  two  ? "  asked  the  philosopher. 
"  You  see,  any  number  of  men  might  be  in 
love  with " 

"  Oh,  we  can  leave  the  rest  out,"  said  Miss 
May  with  a  sudden  dimple ;  "  they  don't 
matter." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  philosopher.  "  If 
they  are  irrelevant  we  will  put  them  aside." 

"  Suppose  then  that  one  of  these  men  was, 
oh,  awfully  in  love  with  the  girl,  and — and 
proposed,  you  know -" 

"  A  moment ! "  said  the  philosopher,  open- 
ing a  note-book.  "  Let  me  take  down  his 
proposition.    What  was  it  ?  " 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  343 

"Why,  proposed  to  her  —  asked  her  to 
marry  him,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  stare. 

"  Dear  me  !  How  stupid  of  me  !  I  forgot 
that  special  use  of  the  word.     Yes  ?  " 

"  The  girl  likes  him  pretty  well,  and  her 
people  approve  of  him  and  all  that,  you 
know." 

"  That  simplifies  the  problem,"  said  the 
philosopher,  nodding  again. 

"  But  she's  not  in — in  love  with  him,  you 
know.  She  doesn't  really  care  for  him — 
much.     Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  It  is  a  most  natural  state  of 
mind." 

"  Well  then,  suppose  that  there's  another 
man — what  are  you  writing  ?  " 

"  I  only  put  down  (B) — like  that,"  pleaded 
the  philosopher,  meekly  exhibiting  his  note- 
book. 

She  looked  at  him  in  a  sort  of  helpless 
exasperation,  with  just  a  smile  somewhere 
in  the  background  of  it. 

"  Oh,  you  really  are "  she  exclaimed. 

"  But  let  me  go  on.  The  other  man  is  a 
friend  of  the  girl's;  he's  very  clever  —  oh, 
fearfully  clever ;  and  he's  rather  handsome. 
You  needn't  put  that  down."    . 


344  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  It  is  certainly  not  very  material,"  ad- 
mitted the  philosopher,  and  he  crossed  out 
"  handsome."     "  Clever  "  he  left. 

"  And  the  girl  is  most  awfully — she  ad- 
mires him  tremendously ;  she  thinks  him  just 
the  greatest  man  that  ever  lived,  you  know. 
And  she — she "     The  girl  paused. 

"I'm  following,"  said  the  philosopher, 
with  pencil  poised. 

"She'd  think  it  better  than  the  whole 
world  if — if  she  could  be  anything  to  him, 
you  know." 

"  You  mean  become  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Well,  of  course  I  do— at  least  I  suppose 
I  do." 

"  You  spoke  rather  vaguely,  you  know." 

The  girl  cast  one  glance  at  the  philoso- 
pher as  she  replied — 

"  Well,  yes.     I  did  mean  become  his  wife." 

"Yes.    Well?" 

"  But,"  continued  the  girl,  starting  on  an- 
other tuft  of  grass,  "  he  doesn't  think  much 
about  those  things.  He  likes  her.  I  think 
he  likes  her " 

"  Well,  doesn't  dislike  her  ?  "  suggested 
the  philosopher.  "Shall  we  call  him  in- 
different ?  " 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  345 

"I  don't  know.  Yes,  rather  indifferent. 
I  don't  think  he  thinks  about  it,  you  know. 
But  she  —  she's  pretty.  You  needn't  put 
that  down." 

"  I  was  not  about  to  do  so,"  observed  the 
philosopher. 

"  She  thinks  life  with  him  would  be  just 
heaven;  and  —  and  she  thinks  she  would 
make  him  awfully  happy.  She  would  — 
would  be  so  proud  of  him,  you  see." 

"  I  see.     Yes  ! " 

"  And — I  don't  know  how  to  put  it,  quite 
— she  thinks  that  if  he  ever  thought  about 
it  at  all,  he  might  care  for  her ;  because  he 
doesn't  care  for  anybody  else ;  and  she's 
pretty " 

"  You  said  that  before." 

"  Oh  dear,  I  dare  say  I  did.  And  most 
men  care  for  somebody,  don't  they  ?  some 
girl,  I  mean." 

"  Most  men,  no  doubt,"  conceded  the  phi- 
losopher. 

"  Well,  then,  what  ought  she  to  do  ?  It's 
not  a  real  thing,  you  know,  Mr.  Jerning- 
ham.  It's  in  —  in  a  novel  I  was  reading." 
She  said  this  hastily,  and  blushed  as  she 
spoke. 


3-±6  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Dear  me !  And  it's  quite  an  interesting" 
case  !  Yes,  I  see.  The  question  is,  Will  she 
act  most  wisely  in  accepting-  the  offer  of  the 
man  who  loves  her  exceedingly,  but  for  whom 
she  entertains  only  a  moderate  affection " 

"  Yes.     Just  a  liking.    He's  just  a  friend." 

"Exactly.  Or  in  marrying  the  other 
whom  she  loves  ex " 

"  That's  not  it.  How  can  she  marry  him  ? 
He  hasn't — he  hasn't  asked  her,  you  see." 

"  True.  I  forgot.  Let  us  assume,  though, 
for  the  moment,  that  he  has  asked  her.  She 
would  then  have  to  consider  which  marriage 
would  probably  be  productive  of  the  greater 
sum  total  of " 

"  Oh,  but  you  needn't  consider  that." 

"  But  it  seems  the  best  logical  order. 
We  can  afterwards  make  allowance  for  the 
element  of  uncertainty  caused  by " 

"  Oh  no.  I  don't  want  it  like  that.  I 
know  perfectly  well  which  she'd  do  if  he — 
the  other  man,  you  know — asked  her." 

"  You  apprehend  that " 

"Never  mind  what  I  'apprehend.'  Take 
it  just  as  I  told  you." 

"Very  good.  A  has  asked  her  hand,  B 
has  not." 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  347 

"Yes." 

"  May  I  take  it  that,  but  for  the  disturb- 
ing- influence  of  B,  A  would  be  a  satisfac- 
tory— er — candidate  ?  " 

"Ye— es.     I  think  so." 

"  She  therefore  enjoys  a  certainty  of  con- 
siderable happiness  if  she  marries  A  ?  " 

"Ye  —  es.  Not  perfect,  because  of  —  B, 
you  know." 

"  Quite  so,  quite  so ;  but  still  a  fair 
amount  of  happiness.     Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  I  don't — well,  perhaps." 

"  On  the  other  hand,  if  B  did  ask  her,  we 
are  to  postulate  a  higher  degree  of  happi- 
ness for  her?  " 

"  Yes,  please,  Mr.  Jerningham  —  much 
higher." 

"  For  both  of  them  ?  " 

"  For  her.     Never  mind  him." 

"Very  well.  That  again  simplifies  the 
problem.  But  his  asking  her  is  a  contin- 
gency only  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  all." 

The  philosopher  spread  out  his  hands. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  he  said,  "it  be- 
comes a  question  of  degree.  How  probable 
or  improbable  is  it  ?  " 


348  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  I  don't  know.  Not  very  probable — un- 
less— unless " 

"Well?" 

"  Unless  he  did  happen  to  notice,  you 
know." 

"Ah,  yes.  We  supposed  that,  if  he 
thought  of  it,  he  would  probably  take  the 
desired  step — at  least,  that  he  might  be  led 
to  do  so.  Could  she  not — er — indicate  her 
preference  ?  " 

"She  might  try — no,  she  couldn't  do 
much.  You  see,  he — he  doesn't  think  about 
such  things." 

"  I  understand  precisely.  And  it  seems 
to  me,  Miss  May,  that  in  that  very  fact  we 
find  our  solution." 

"  Do  we  ?  "  she  asked. 

"I  think  so.  He  has  evidently  no  natu- 
ral inclination  towards  her  —  perhaps  not 
towards  marriage  at  all.  Any  feeling 
aroused  in  him  would  be  necessarily  shal- 
low and  in  a  measure  artificial — and  in  all 
likelihood  purely  temporary.  Moreover,  if 
she  took  steps  to  arouse  his  attention,  one 
of  two  things  would  be  likely  to  happen. 
Are  you  following  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Jerningham." 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  349 

"  Either  he  would  be  repelled  by  her  over- 
tures— which  you  must  admit  is  not  improb- 
able— and  then  the  position  would  be  un- 
pleasant, and  even  degrading-,  for  her.  Or 
on  the  other  hand  he  might,  through  a  mis- 
placed feeling  of  gallantry " 

"  Through  what  ?  " 

"  Through  a  mistaken  idea  of  politeness, 
or  a  mistaken  view  of  what  was  kind,  allow 
himself  to  be  drawn  into  a  connection  for 
which  he  had  no  genuine  liking.  You  agree 
with  me  that  one  or  other  of  these  things 
would  be  likely  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  they  would,  unless  he  did 
come  to  care  for  her." 

"Ah,  you  return  to  that  hypothesis.  I 
think  it's  an  extremely  fanciful  one.  No. 
She  needn't  marry  A,  but  she  must  let  B 
alone." 

The  philosopher  closed  his  book,  took  off 
his  glasses,  wiped  them,  replaced  them,  and 
leaned  back  against  the  trunk  of  the  apple 
tree.  The  girl  picked  a  dandelion  in  pieces. 
After  a  long  pause  she  asked, 

"  You  think  B's  feelings  wouldn't  be  at  all 
likely  to — to  change  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  the  sort  of  man  he  is. 


350  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

But  if  he  is  an  able  man,  with  intellectual 
interests  which  engross  him  —  a  man  who 
has  chosen  his  path  in  life — a  man  to  whom 
women's  society  is  not  a  necessity " 

"  He's  just  like  that,"  said  the  girl,  and 
she  bit  the  head  off  a  daisy. 

"  Then,"  said  the  philosopher,  "  I  see  not 
the  least  reason  for  supposing  that  his  feel- 
ings will  change." 

"  And  would  you  advise  her  to  marry  the 
other— A  ?  " 

"  Well,  on  the  whole,  I  should.  A  is  a 
good  fellow  (I  think  we  made  A  a  good  fel- 
low) :  he  is  a  suitable  match,  his  love  for 
her  is  true  and  genuine " 

"  It's  tremendous !  " 

"  Yes — and — er — extreme.  She  likes  him. 
There  is  every  reason  to  hope  that  her  liking 
will  develop  into  a  sufficiently  deep  and 
stable  affection.  She  will  get  rid  of  her 
folly  about  B  and  make  A  a  good  wife. 
Yes,  Miss  May,  if  I  were  the  author  of  your 
novel,  I  should  make  her  marry  A,  and  I 
should  call  that  a  happy  ending." 

A  silence  followed.  It  was  broken  by  the 
philosopher. 

"  Is  that  all  you  wanted  my  opinion  about, 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  351 

Miss  May  ?  "  lie  asked,  with  liis  finger  be- 
tween the  leaves  of  the  treatise  on  ontology. 
"  Yes,  I  think  so.     I  hope  I  haven't  bored 

you?" 

"I've  enjoyed  the  discussion  extremely. 
I  had  no  idea  that  novels  raised  points  of 
such  psychological  interest.  I  must  find 
time  to  read  one." 

The  girl  had  shifted  her  position  till, 
instead  of  her  full  face,  her  profile  was 
turned  towards  him.  Looking  away  tow- 
ards the  paddock  that  lay  brilliant  in  sun- 
shine on  the  skirts  of  the  apple  orchard,  she 
asked,  in  low  slow  tones,  twisting  her  hands 
in  her  lap, 

"  Don't  you  think  that  perhaps  if  B  found 
out  afterwards — when  she  had  married  A, 
you  know — that  she  had  cared  for  him  so 
very,  very  much,  he  might  be  a  little  sorry  ?  " 

"  If  he  were  a  gentleman,  he  would  regret 
it  deeply." 

"  I  mean — sorry  on  his  own  account ;  that 
— that  he  had  thrown  away  all  that,  you 
know?" 

The  philosopher  looked  meditative. 

"  I  think,"  he  pronounced,  "  that  it  is  very 
possible  he  would.     I  can  well  imagine  it." 


352  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"He  might  never  find  anybody  to  love 
him  like  that  again,"  she  said,  gazing  on 
the  gleaming  paddock. 

"  He  probably  would  not,"  agreed  the 
philosopher. 

"  And — and  most  people  like  being  loved, 
don't  they  ?  " 

"  To  crave  for  love  is  an  almost  universal 
instinct,  Miss  May." 

"Yes,  almost,"  she  said,  with  a  dreary 
little  smile.  "  You  see,  he'll  get  old  and — ■ 
and  have  no  one  to  look  after  him." 

"  He  will." 

"  And  no  home." 

"  "Well,  in  a  sense,  none,"  corrected  the 
philosopher,  smiling.  "  But  really  you'll 
frighten  me.  I'm  a  bachelor  myself,  you 
know,  Miss  May." 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered  just  audibly. 

"  And  all  your  terrors  are  before  me." 

"  Well,  unless " 

"  Oh,  we  needn't  have  that  '  unless,' " 
laughed  the  philosopher  cheerfully. 
"  There's  no  '  unless  '  about  it,  Miss  May." 

The  girl  jumped  to  her  feet ;  for  an  in- 
stant she  looked  at  the  philosopher.  She 
opened  her  lips  as  if  to  speak,  and,  at  the 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  353 

thought  of  what  lay  at  her  tongue's  tip, 
her  face  grew  red.  But  the  philosopher 
was  gazing  past  her,  and  his  eyes  rested 
in  calm  contemplation  on  the  gleaming 
paddock. 

"  A  beautiful  thing,  sunshine,  to  be  sure," 
said  he. 

Her  blush  faded  away  into  paleness ; 
her  lips  closed.  Without  speaking  she 
turned  and  walked  slowly  away,  her  head 
drooping.  The  philosopher  heard  the 
rustle  of  her  skirt  in  the  long  grass  of  the 
orchard ;  he  watched  her  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. 

"  A  pretty,  graceful  creature,"  said  he 
with  a  smile.  Then  he  opened  his  book, 
took  his  pencil  in  his  hand,  and  slipped 
in  a  careful  forefinger  to  mark  the  fly-leaf. 

The  sun  had  passed  mid-heaven,  and  be- 
gan to  decline  westwards  before  he  finished 
the  book.  Then  he  stretched  himself  and 
looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Good  gracious,  two  o'clock  !  I  shall  be 
late  for  lunch ! "  and  he  hurried  to  his  feet. 

He  was  very  late  for  lunch. 

"Everything's  cold,"  wailed  his  hostess. 
"  Where  have  you  been,  Mr.  Jerningham  ?  " 
23 


354  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Only  in  the  orchard — reading." 

"  And  you've  missed  May  !  " 

"  Missed  Miss  May  ?  How  do  you  mean? 
I  had  a  long  talk  with  her  this  morning- — a 
most  interesting-  talk." 

"  But  you  weren't  here  to  say  good-by. 
Now,  you  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  forgot 
that  she  was  leaving  by  the  two  o'clock 
train  ?     What  a  man  you  are ! " 

"  Dear  me !  To  think  of  my  forgetting 
it ! "  said  the  philosopher  shamefacedly. 

"  She  told  me  to  say  good-by  to  you  for 
her." 

"  She's  very  kind.  I  can't  forgive  my- 
self." 

His  hostess  looked  at  him  for  a  moment ; 
then  she  sighed,  and  smiled,  and  sighed 
again. 

"  Have  you  everything  you  want  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Everything,  thank  you,"  said  he,  sitting 
down  opposite  the  cheese,  and  propping  his 
book  (he  thought  he  would  just  run  through 
the  last  chapter  again)  against  the  loaf ; 
"  everything  in  the  world  that  I  want, 
thanks." 

His  hostess  did  not  tell  him  that  the  girl 


THE  PHILOSOPHER  355 

had  come  in  from  the  apple  orchard,  and 
run  hastily  upstairs,  lest  her  friend  should 
see  what  her  friend  did  see  in  her  eyes.  So 
that  he  had  no  suspicion  at  all  that  he  had 
received  an  offer  of  marriage — and  refused 
it.  And  he  did  not  refer  to  anything-  of  that 
sort  when  he  paused  once  in  his  reading-  and 
exclaimed, 

"  I'm  really  sorry  I  missed  Miss  May. 
That  was  an  interesting  case  of  hers.  But  I 
gave  the  right  answer.  The  girl  ought  to 
marry  A." 

And  so  the  girl  did. 


THE  DECREE  OF  DUKE 
DEODONATO 


THE  DECREE   OF  DUKE 
DEODONATO 

"  IT  is  a  most  anxious  thing  to  be  an  abso- 

1  lute  ruler,"  said  Duke  Deodonato,  "  but 
I  have  made  up  my  mind.  The  Doctor  has 
convinced  me  (here  Dr.  Fusbius,  Ph.D., 
bowed  very  low)  that  marriage  is  the  best, 
noblest,  wholesomest,  and  happiest  of  human 
conditions." 

"Your  Highness  will  remember "  be- 
gan the  President  of  the  Council. 

"  My  lord,  I  have  made  up  my  mind," 
said  Duke  Deodonato. 

Thus  speaking,  the  Duke  took  a  large 
sheet  of  foolscap  paper,  and  wrote  rapidly 
for  a  moment  or  two. 

"  There,"  he  said,  pushing  the  paper  over 
to  the  President,  "  is  the  decree." 

"  The  decree,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  think  three  weeks  afford  ample  space," 
said  Duke  Deodonato. 


360  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  Three  weeks,  sir  ?  " 

"  For  every  man  over  twenty-one  years  of 
age  in  this  Duchy  to  find  himself  a  wife." 

"  Your  Highness,"  observed  Dr.  Fusbius 
with  deference,  "  will  consider  that  between 
an  abstract  proposition  and  a  practical 
measure " 

"  There  is  to  the  logical  mind  no  stopping- 
place,"  interrupted  Duke  Deodonato. 

"  But,  sir,"  cried  the  President,  "  imagine 
the  consternation  which  this !" 

"Let  it  be  gazetted  to-night,"  said  Duke 
Deodonato. 

"  I  would  venture,"  said  the  President, 
"to  remind  your  Highness  that  you  are 
yourself  a  bachelor." 

"  Laws,"  said  Duke  Deodonato,  "  do  not 
bind  the  Crown  unless  the  Crown  is  ex- 
pressly mentioned." 

"  True,  sir  ;  but  I  humbly  conceive  that  it 
would  be  pessimi  exempli " 

"  You  are  right ;  I  will  marry  myself," 
said  Duke  Deodonato. 

"But,  sir,  three  weeks!  The  hand  of  a 
princess  cannot  be  requested  and  granted 
in " 

"  Then  find  me  somebody  else,"  said  Deo- 


DUKE  DEODONATO  361 

donato ;  "  and  pray  leave  me.  I  would  be 
alone ; "  and  Duke  Deodonato  waved  his 
hand  to  the  door. 

Outside  the  door  the  President  said  to  the 
Doctor, 

"  I  could  wish,  sir,  that  you  had  not  con- 
vinced his  Highness." 

"  My  lord,"  rejoined  the  Doctor,  "  truth  is 
my  only  preoccupation." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  President,  "  are  you  mar- 
ried ?  " 

"  My  lord,"  answered  the  Doctor,  "  I  am 
not." 

"  I  thought  not,"  said  the  President,  as  he 
folded  up  the  decree,  and  put  it  in  his 
pocket. 

It  is  useless  to  deny  that  Duke  Deodo- 
nato's  decree  caused  considerable  disturb- 
ance in  the  Duchy.  In  the  first  place,  the 
Crown  lawyers  raised  a  puzzle  of  law.  Did 
the  word  "  man  "  as  used  in  the  decree,  in- 
clude "  woman  ?  "  The  President  shook  his 
head,  and  referred  the  question  to  his  High- 
ness. 

"  It  seems  immaterial,"  observed  the  Duke. 
"  If  a  man  marries,  a  woman  marries." 

"  Ex  vi  terminorum"  assented  the  Doctor. 


362  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  But,  sir,"  said  the  President,  "  there  are 
more  women  than  men  in  the  Duchy." 

Duke  Deodonato  threw  down  his  pen. 
"  This  is  very  provoking-,"  said  he.  "Why 
was  it  allowed  ?  I'm  sure  it  happened  be- 
fore /  came  to  the  throne." 

The  Doctor  was  about  to  point  out  that  it 
could  hardly  have  been  guarded  against, 
when  the  President  (who  was  a  better  cour- 
tier) anticipated  him. 

"  We  did  not  foresee  that  your  Highness, 
in  your  Highness's  wisdom,  would  issue  this 
decree,"  he  said  humbly. 

"  True,"  said  Duke  Deodonato,  who  was  a 
just  man. 

"  Would  your  Highness  vouchsafe  any  ex- 
planation  ?  " 

"  What  are  the  Judges  for  ?  "  asked  Duke 
Deodonato.  "  There  is  the  law — let  them 
interpret  it." 

Whereupon  the  Judges  held  that  a  "  man  " 
was  not  a  "  woman,"  and  that  although 
every  man  must  many,  no  woman  need. 

"  It  will  make  no  difference,"  said  the 
President. 

"  None  at  all,"  said  Dr.  Fusbius. 

Nor,  perhaps,  would  it,  seeing  that  women 


DUKE  DEODONATO  3G3 

are  ever  kind,  and  in  no  way  by  nature 
averse  from  marriage,  had  it  not  become 
known  that  Duke  Deodonato  himself  in- 
tended to  choose  a  wife  from  the  ladies  of 
his  own  dominions,  and  to  choose  her  (ac- 
cording- to  the  advice  of  Dr.  Fusbius,  who, 
in  truth,  saw  little  whither  his  counsel  would 
in  the  end  carry  the  Duke)  without  regard  to 
such  adventitious  matters  as  rank  or  wealth, 
and  purely  for  her  beauty,  talent,  and  virtue. 
AYhich  resolve  being  proclaimed,  straight- 
way all  the  ladies  of  the  Duchy,  of  whatso- 
ever station,  calling,  age,  appearance,  wit, 
or  character,  conceiving  each  of  them  that 
she,  and  no  other,  should  become  the  Duch- 
ess, sturdily  refused  all  offers  of  marriage 
(although  they  were  many  of  them  as  des- 
perately enamored  as  virtuous  ladies  may 
be),  and  did  nought  else  than  walk,  drive, 
ride,  and  display  their  charms  in  the  park 
before  the  windows  of  the  ducal  palace. 
And  thus  it  fell  out  that  when  a  week  had 
gone  by,  no  man  had  obeyed  Duke  Deodo- 
nato's  decree,  and  they  were,  from  sheer 
want  of  brides,  like  to  fall  into  contempt  of 
the  law  and  under  the  high  displeasure  of 
the  Duke. 


304  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

Upon  this  the  President  and  Dr.  Fusbius 
sought  audience  of  his  Highness,  and  hum- 
bly laid  before  him  the  unforeseen  obstacle 
which  had  occurred. 

"  Woman  is  ever  ambitious,"  said  Dr. 
Fusbius. 

"  Nay,"  corrected  the  President,  "  they 
have  seen  his  Highness's  jierson  as  his 
Highness  has  ridden  through  the  city." 

Duke  Deodonato  threw  down  his  pen. 

"  This  is  very  tiresome,"  said  he,  knitting 
his  brows.  "  My  lord,  I  would  be  further 
advised  on  this  matter.  Return  at  the  same 
hour  to-morrow." 

The  next  day,  Duke  Deodonato's  forehead 
had  regained  its  customary  smoothness,  and 
his  manner  was  tranquil  and  assured. 

"  Our  pleasure  is,"  said  he  to  the  Presi- 
dent, "  that,  albeit  no  woman  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  marry  if  so  be  that  she  be  not  in- 
vited thereunto  ;  yet,  if  bidden,  she  shall  in 
no  wise  refuse,  but  straightway  espouse  that 
man  who  first  after  the  date  of  these  pres- 
ents shall  solicit  her  hand." 

The  President  bowed  in  admiration. 

"  It  is,  if  I  may  humbly  say  so,  a  practical 
and  wise  solution,  sir,"  he  said. 


DUKE  DEODONATO  365 

"I  apprehend  that  it  will  remedy  the 
mischief,"  said  Duke  Deodonato,  not  ill- 
pleased. 

And  doubtless  it  would  have  had  an  effect 
as  altogether  satisfactory,  excellent,  bene- 
ficial, salutary,  and  universal  as  the  wisdom 
of  Duke  Deodonato  had  anticipated  from  it, 
had  it  not  fallen  out  that,  on  the  promulga- 
tion of  the  decree,  all  the  aforesaid  ladies  of 
the  Duchy,  of  whatsoever  station,  calling, 
age,  appearance,  wit,  or  character,  straight- 
way, and  so  swiftly  that  no  man  had  time 
wherein  to  pay  his  court  to  them,  fled  to 
and  shut  and  bottled  and  barricaded  them- 
selves in  houses,  castles,  cupboards,  cellars, 
stables,  lofts,  churches,  chapels,  chests,  and 
every  other  kind  of  receptacle  whatsoever, 
and  there  remained  beyond  reach  of  any 
man,  be  he  whom  he  would,  lest  haply  one, 
coming,  should  ask  their  hand  in  marriage, 
and  thus  they  should  lose  all  prospect  of 
wedding  the  Duke. 

When  Duke  Deodonato  was  apprised  of 
this  lamentable  action  on  the  part  of  the 
ladies  of  the  Duchy,  he  frowned  and  laid 
down  his  pen. 

"  This  is  very  annoying,"  said  he.     "  There 


366  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

appears  to  be  a  disposition  to  thwart  Our 
endeavors  for  the  public  good." 

"  It  is  gross  contumacy,"  said  Dr.  Fus- 
bius. 

"Yet,"  remarked  the  President,  "  inspired 
by  a  natural,  if  ill-disciplined,  admiration 
for  his  Highness's  person." 

"  The  decree  is  now  a  fortnight  old,"  ob- 
served Duke  Deodonato.  "  Leave  me,  I 
will  consider  further  of  this  matter." 

Now  even  as  his  Highness  spoke  a  mighty 
uproar  arose  under  the  palace  windows,  and 
Duke  Deodonato,  looking  out  of  the  window 
(which,  be  it  remembered,  but  for  the  guid- 
ance of  Heaven  he  might  not  have  done), 
beheld  a  maiden  of  wonderful  charms  strug- 
gling in  the  clutches  of  two  halberdiers  of 
the  guard,  who  were  haling  her  off  to  prison. 

"  Bring  hither  that  damsel,"  said  Deodo- 
nato. 

Presently  the  damsel,  still  held  by  the 
soldiers,  entered  the  room.  Her  robe  was 
dishevelled  and  rent,  her  golden  hair  hung 
loose  on  her  shoulders,  and  her  eyes  were 
full  of  tears. 

"At  whose  suit  is  she  arrested?"  asked 
Deodonato. 


DUKE  DEODONATO  367 

"  At  the  suit  of  the  most  learned  Dr.  Fus- 
bius,  may  it  please  your  Highness." 

"  Sir,"  said  Dr.  Fusbius,  "  it  is  true.  This 
lady,  grossly  contemning1  your  Highness's 
decree,  has  refused  my  hand  in  marriage." 

"  Is  it  true,  damsel  ?  "  asked  Duke  Deodo- 
nato. 

"Hear  me,  your  Highness!"  answered 
she.  "  I  left  my  dwelling  but  an  instant,  for 
we  were  in  sore  straits  for " 

"  Bread  ? "  asked  Deodonato,  a  touch  of 
sympathy  in  his  voice. 

"  May  it  please  your  Highness,  no — pins 
wherewith  to  fasten  our  hair.  And,  as  I  ran 
to  the  merchant's,  this  aged  man " 

"  I  am  but  turned  of  fifty,"  interrupted 
Fusbius. 

"And  have  not  yet  learnt  silence?  "  asked 
Deodonato  severely.     "  Damsel,  proceed ! " 

"Caught  me  by  my  gown  as  I  ran  and " 

"I  proposed  marriage  to  her,"  said  Fus- 
bius. 

"  Nay,  if  you  proposed  marriage,  she  shall 
marry  you,"  said  Deodonato.  "  By  the  crown 
of  my  fathers,  she  shall  marry  you.  But 
what  said  he,  damsel  ?  " 

"  May  it  please  your  Highness,  he  said 


368  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

that  I  had  the  prettiest  face  in  all  the 
Duchy,  and  that  he  would  have  no  wife  but 
me ;  and  thereupon  he  kissed  me ;  and  I 
would  have  none  of  him,  and  I  struck  him 
and  escaped." 

"Send  for  the  Judges,"  said  Duke  Deo- 
donato.  "  And  meanwhile  keep  this  damsel 
and  let  no  man  propose  marriage  to  her  un- 
til Our  pleasure  be  known." 

Now  when  the  Judges  were  come,  and  the 
maiden  was  brought  in  and  set  over  against 
them  on  the  right  hand,  and  the  learned 
Doctor  took  his  stand  on  the  left,  Deodonato 
prayed  the  Judges  that  they  would  perpend 
carefully  and  anxiously  of  the  question — 
using  all  lore,  research,  wisdom,  discretion, 
and  justice — whether  Dr.  Fusbius  had  pro- 
posed marriage  unto  the  maiden  or  no. 

"  Thus  shalt  Our  mind  be  informed,  and 
we  shall  deal  profitably  with  this  matter," 
concluded  Duke  Deodonato. 

Upon  which  arose  great  debate.  For 
there  was  one  part  of  the  learned  men  which 
leant  upon  the  letter  and  found  no  invi- 
tation to  marriage  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Fus- 
bius ;  while  another  part  would  have  it 
that  in  all  things  the  spirit  and  mind  of 


DUKE  DEODONATO  369 

the  utterer  must  be  regarded,  and  that  it 
sorted  not  with  the  years,  virtues,  learning-, 
and  position  of  the  said  most  learned  Doc- 
tor to  suppose  that  he  had  spoken  such 
words  and  sealed  the  same  with  a  kiss,  save 
under  the  firm  impression,  thought,  and 
conviction  that  he  was  offering  his  hand  in 
marriage  ;  which  said  impression,  thought, 
and  conviction  were  fully  and  reasonably 
declared  and  evident  in  his  actions,  manner, 
bearing,  air,  and  conduct. 

"This  is  very  perplexing,"  said  Duke 
Deodonato,  and  he  knit  his  brows  ;  for  as  he 
gazed  upon  the  beauty  of  the  damsel,  it 
seemed  to  him  a  thing  unnatural,  undesira- 
ble, unpalatable,  unpleasant,  and  unendura- 
ble, that  she  should  wed  Dr.  Fusbius.  Yet 
if  such  were  the  law  —  Duke  Deodonato 
sighed,  and  he  glanced  at  the  damsel :  and 
it  chanced  that  the  damsel  glanced  at  Duke 
Deodonato,  and,  seeing  that  he  was  a  proper 
man  and  comely,  and  that  his  eye  spoke  his 
admiration  of  her,  she  blushed ;  and  her 
cheek  that  had  gone  white  when  those  of 
the  Judges  who  favored  the  learned  Doctor 
were  speaking,  went  red  as  a  rose  again, 
and  she  strove  to  order  her  hair  and  to  con- 
24 


370  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

oeal  the  rent  that  was  in  her  robe.  And 
Duke  Deodonato  sighed  again. 

"My  Lord,"  he  said  to  the  President, 
"  we  have  heard  these  wise  and  erudite  men  ; 
and,  forasmuch  as  the  matter  is  difficult, 
they  are  divided  among  themselves,  and  the 
staff  whereon  we  leant  is  broken.  Speak, 
therefore,  your  mind." 

Then  the  President  of  the  Council  looked 
earnestly  at  Duke  Deodonato,  but  the  Duke 
veiled  his  face  with  his  hand. 

"  Answer  truly,"  said  he,  "  without  fear  or 
favor  ;  so  shall  you  fulfil  Our  pleasure." 

And  the  President,  looking  round  upon 
the  company,  said : 

"  It  is,  Your  Highness,  by  all  reasonable, 
honest,  just,  proper,  and  honorable  intend- 
ment, as  good,  sound,  full,  and  explicit  an 
offer  of  marriage  as  hath  ever  been  had  in 
this  Duchy." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Duke  Deodonato ;  and 
Dr.  Fusbius  smiled  in  triumph,  while  the 
maiden  grew  pale  again. 

"  And,"  pursued  the  President,  "  it  binds, 
controls,  and  rules  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  in  these  Your  Highness's  dominions, 
and  hath  the  force  of  law  over  all." 


DUKE  DEODONATO  371 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Deodonato  again. 

"Saving,"  added  the  President,  "Your 
Highness  only." 

There  was  a  movement  among  the  com- 
pany. 

"For,"  pursued  the  President,  "by  the 
ancient  laws,  customs,  manners,  and  ob- 
servances of  the  Duchy,  no  decree  or  law 
shall  in  any  way  whatsoever  impair,  alter, 
lessen,  or  derogate  from  the  high  rights, 
powers,  and  prerogatives  of  Your  Highness, 
whom  may  Heaven  long  preserve.  Although, 
therefore,  it  be,  by  and  pursuant  to  Your 
Highness's  decree,  the  sure  right  of  every 
man  in  this  Duchy  to  be  accepted  in  mar- 
riage of  any  damsel  whom  he  shall  invite 
thereunto,  yet  is  this  right  in  all  respects 
subject  to  and  controlled  by  the  natural,  le- 
gal, inalienable,  unalterable,  and  sovereign 
prerogative  of  Your  Highness  to  marry  what 
damsel  soever  it  shall  be  Your  pleasure  to 
bid  share  your  throne.  Hence  I,  in  obedi- 
ence to  Your  Highness's  commands,  pro- 
nounce and  declare  that  this  damsel  is  law- 
fully and  irrevocably  bound  and  affianced 
to  the  learned  Dr.  Fusbius,  unless  and  until 
it  shall  please  Your  Highness  yourself  to  de- 


WT1  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

mand  her  band  in  marriage.  May  what  I 
have  spokes  please  Your  Highness."  And 
1,1m  President  sat  down. 

Duke  Deodonato  Bat  awhile  in  thought, 
and   there  was  silenoe  is  the  boll.    Thes 

Jin  Hpokn  : 

"Let  all    withdraw,   saving  the  damsel 

only." 

And  they  one  and  all  withdrew,  and  Duke 
Deodonato  was  left  alone  with  the  damsel. 

Thes  be  arose  and  gazed  long  <>n  the 
damsel  ;  but  the  damsel  would  not  look  on 
I  hike  I  leodonato. 

"How  are  you  oalled,  lady?"  asked  Duke 
I  )eodonato. 

"  I  am  oalled  Duloissima,"  said  slm. 

"Wellnamed!"  said  Deodonato  softly, 
and  1 1 < '  wcid.  to  the  damsel,  and  be  Laid  Inn 
hand,  full  gently,  <>n  her  robe,  and  be  Baid, 

"  Duloissima,  you  have  the  prettiest  face 
in  idl  the  Duohy,  and  I  will  have  no  wife 
but  youj"  and  Duke  Deodonato  kissed  Hn> 
damsel. 

The  damsel  forbore  !<>  strike  Duke  Deo- 
donato,  hm  hIio  had  struck  Dr.  Fusbius. 
Again  ber  oheek  went  red,  and  again  pale, 

mid  hIio  Hiiid, 


LUKE  DBODOU  I  TO  873 

"  1  wed  no  in:in  on  compulsion." 

"  Madam,   1    am    Your   Sovereign,"   Bald 

Duke  Deodonato  ;  and  biB  eyes  were  on  the 

damsel. 
"If  you  were  an  A.rohangel  — 1"  oried 

the  damsel. 

"  Our   House  is  not  wont  io  lie  scorned  of 

Ladies,"  Baid  Deodonato,  "Am  I  orooked, 
or  baseborn,  or  a  fool? " 

"This  day  in  your  Duohy  women  are 
slaves,  and  men  their  masters  by  your  will," 
said  she. 

"  [t  is  the  order  of  nature,"  Baid  Deodonato. 

"  It  is  not  my  pleasure,"  said    the   damsel. 
Then    Deodonato  laid  his  hand  on  his   sil 
vor  hell,  for  he  was  very  angry. 
"  FusbiuS  wails  without, "  said  he. 

"  I  will  wed  him  and  kill  him,"  oried  Dul« 
oissima. 
I  )eodonato  gazed  on  her. 

"  foil  had  no  ohanOB  of  Using1  the  pins," 
said    he,  "  and  the  pent  in  your  gOWD   is  very 

SOie." 

And  upon  this  the  eyes  of  the  damsel  lost 
their    lire    and    SOUght    Ihe    lloor  ;     and    she 

pluoked  at  her  girdle,  and  would  not  look  on 

Deodonato.      And  they  said  outside, 


374  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

"  It  is  very  still  in  the  Hall  of  the  Duke." 

Then  said  Deodonato, 

"  Dulcissima,  what  would  you  ?  " 

"  That  you  repeal  your  decrees,"  said  she. 

Deodonato's  brow  grew  dark  ;  he  did  not 
love  to  go  back. 

"  "What  I  have  decreed,  I  have  decreed," 
said  he. 

"  And  what  I  have  resolved,  I  have  re- 
solved," said  she. 

Deodonato  drew  near  to  her. 

"  And  if  I  repeal  the  decrees  ?  "  said  he. 

"  You  will  do  well,"  said  she. 

,     "  And  you  will  wed ?  " 

►    "  Whom  I  will,"  said  she. 

Deodonato  turned  to  the  window,  and  for 
a  space  he  looked  out ;  and  the  damsel 
smoothed  her  hair  and  drew  her  robe,  where 
it  was  whole,  across  the  rent ;  and  she  looked 
on  Deodonato  as  he  stood,  and  her  bosom 
rose  and  fell.  And  she  prayed  a  prayer 
that  no  man  heard  or,  if  he  heard,  might  be 
so  base  as  to  tell.  But  she  saw  the  dark 
locks  of  Deodonato's  hair  and  his  form, 
straight  as  an  arrow  and  tall  as  a  six-foot 
wand,  in  the  window.  And  again,  outside, 
they  said, 


DUKE  DEODONATO  375 

"  It  is  strangely  still  in  the  Hall  of  the 
Duke." 

Then  Deodonato  turned,  and  he  pressed 
with  his  hand  on  the  silver  bell,  and  straight- 
way the  Hall  was  filled  with  the  Councillors, 
the  Judges,  and  the  halberdiers,  attentive  to 
hear  the  will  of  Deodonato  and  the  fate  of 
the  damsel.  And  the  small  eyes  of  Fusbius 
glowed  and  the  calm  eyes  of  the  President 
smiled. 

"  My  Cousins,  Gentlemen,  and  my  faithful 
Guard,"  said  Deodonato,  "Time,  which  is 
Heaven's  mighty  Instrument,  brings  counsel. 
Say !  what  the  Duke  has  done,  shall  any 
man  undo  ?  " 

Then  cried  they  all,  save  one, 

"  No  man ! " 

And  the  President  said, 

"  Saving  the  Duke." 

"  The  decrees  which  I  made,"  said  Deo- 
donato, "  I  unmake.  Henceforth  let  men 
and  maidens  in  my  Duchy  marry  or  not 
marry  as  they  will,  and  God  give  them  joy 
of  it." 

And  all,  save  Fusbius,  cried  "Amec" 
But  Fusbius  cried, 

"  Your  Highness,  it  is  demonstrated  be- 


376  COMEDIES  OF  COURTSHIP 

yond  cavil,  ay,  to  the  satisfaction  of  your 
Highness •" 

"  This  is  very  tedious,"  said  Deodonato. 
"  Let  him  speak  no  more." 

And  again  he  drew  near  to  Dulcissima, 
and  there,  before  them  all,  he  fell  on  his 
knee.     And  a  murmur  ran  through  the  hall. 

"  Madam,"  said  Deodonato,  "  if  you  love 
me,  wed  me.  And,  if  you  love  me  not,  de- 
part in  peace  and  in  honor ;  and  I,  Deodo- 
nato, will  live  my  life  alone." 

Then  the  damsel  trembled,  and  barely  did 
Deodonato  catch  her  words  : 

"  There  are  many  men  here,"  said  she. 

"  It  is  not  given  to  Princes,"  said  Deo- 
donato, "  to  be  alone.  Nevertheless,  if  you 
will,  leave  me  alone." 

And  the  damsel  bent  low,  so  that  the 
breath  of  her  mouth  stirred  the  hair  on  Deo- 
donato's  head,  and  he  shivered  as  he  knelt. 

"  My  Prince  and  my  King  !  "  said  she. 

And  Deodonato  shot  to  his  feet,  and  before 
them  all  he  kissed  her,  and,  turning,  spoke  : 

"  As  I  have  wooed,  let  every  man  in  this 
Duchy  woo.  As  I  have  won,  let  every  man 
that  is  worthy  win.  For,  unless  he  so  woo, 
and  unless  he  so  win,  vain  is  his  wooing  and 


DUKE  DEODONATO  377 

vain  is  his  winning-,  and  a  fig  for  his  wed- 
ding, say  I,  Deodonato !  I,  that  was  Deo- 
donato,  and  now  am — Deodonato  and  Dul- 
cissiina." 

And  a  great  cheer  rang  out  in  the  Hall, 
and  Fusbius  fled  to  the  door  ;  and  they  tore 
his  gown  as  he  went  and  cursed  him  for  a 
knave.  But  the  President  raised  his  voice 
aloud  and  cried — 

"May  Heaven  preserve  your  Highnesses 
— and  here's  a  blessing  on  all  windows! " 

And  that  is  the  reason  why  you  will  find 
(if  you  travel  there,  as  I  trust  you  may,  for 
nowhere  are  the  ladies  fairer  or  the  men  so 
gallant)  more  windows  in  the  Duchy  of  De- 
odonato than  anywhere  in  the  wide  world 
besides.  For  the  more  windows,  the  wider 
the  view  ;  and  the  wider  the  view,  the  more 
pretty  damsels  do  you  see ;  and  the  more 
pretty  damsels  you  see,  the  more  jocund  a 
thing  is  life — and  that  is  what  the  men  of 
the  Duchy  love — and  not  least  Duke  Deo- 
donato, whom,  with  his  bride  Dulcissima, 
may  Heaven  long  preserve ! 


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